


Fed and Fed Again: A Hobbit's Parody

by dmarsh14



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Inflation, F/F, Genderswap, Inflation, Large Breasts, Multi, Parody, Stuffing, Vore, Weight Gain, belly inflation, blueberry inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:03:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 109,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarsh14/pseuds/dmarsh14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a parody work based on J.R.R. Tolkien's novel, "The Hobbit," but with much overeating, weight gain, and all other kinds of body expansion. All the main characters are now female.<br/>The female Belly-donna Big'uns goes off on an adventure with thirteen female dwarves. Along the way, all and sundry get overfed, gain huge amounts of weight, and blow up their bodies in every way conceivable.<br/>There is also a lot of gratuitous sex. You have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Feeding

     In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole (nasty, dirty, and often wet, was more descriptive of the hobbit who lived there), nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat (sitting and eating were the hobbit’s favorite pastimes): it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.  
     It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall, wide and round like the hobbit: with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with very wide chairs, and lots and lots of places to eat - the hobbit was fond of meals. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles around called it - and many wide round doors opened out of it, first on one side then on the other. No going upstairs for the hobbit (she couldn’t have managed the climb): bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, wardrobes (lots of these), pantries (she had a whole wing devoted to food), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the very closest to the food storage wing.  
     This hobbit was a very well-to-do, very fat, hobbit, and her name was Big’uns. The Big’unses had lived in the neighborhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were very rich, but also because they were, to the last, extremely fat and well-endowed. You could tell a Big’uns was coming (by the ground shaking under her weight) without actually seeing her. This is a story of how a Big’uns went and had an adventure, found herself doing and eating things altogether unexpected. She may have lost the neighbors’ respect (probably not; she came back much much fatter), but she gained -- well, you will see how much she gained in the end.  
     The mother of our particular hobbit ... what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Skinny People, as they call us. They are (or were) a short people, about half our height, and fatter than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits tend to be fatter than anyone. There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them gain incredible weight from the smallest meal (which they never have, if they can help it; excessive meals were more their style). They are inclined to be fat in the stomach, indeed all over; they dress in bright colors (chiefly green and yellow-when they can get clothes to fit them); have long clever brown fingers which are adept at finding food and stuffing it in their mouths, good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day, and more if they can get it). Now you know enough to go on with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit -- of Belly-donna Big’uns, that is -- was the fabulous Belly-donna Cook, one of the three remarkably fat daughters of the Old Cook, the greatest chef among the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of the Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago, one of the Cook ancestors must have eaten his way across Middle-Earth, consuming everything he could find. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something excessive about them, and once in a while members of the Cook-clan would disappear for some long time and return stuffed beyond capacity and immensely fat. This was impressive, but the fact remained that the Cooks were not as respectable as the Big’unses, though they were undoubtedly fatter. Not that Belly-donna Cook ever had any unaccounted feastings after she became Mrs. Bigguy Big’uns. Bigguy, that was Belly-donna (Jr)’s father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under the Hill or over the Hill or across the Water, and filled it with the most fattening foods to be found anywhere, and she ate well, quickly growing so fat that she was immobile and bed-ridden. Her dear husband was only too pleased with this development, and spent the rest of his days feeding and fucking her every day, and most often eight hours or more each day. Still, it is probable that Belly-donna, although she looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of her immense and well-fed mother, got something a bit weird from the Big’uns side, maybe a fetish or two, that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Belly-Donna Big’uns was grown up, being about twenty-five years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by her father, which I have just described to you, until she had in fact apparently settled down, immobile.  
     By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world when there was less noise and more food, and the hobbits were still numerous and hugely fat, and Belly-donna Big’uns was sitting outside her door after breakfast eating an after-breakfast snack that covered all the way to the other side of the outdoor table - Lardass came by. Lardass! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about her, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale. Giant bellies and massive bosoms sprouted up all over the place wherever she went, in the most extraordinary fashion. She had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since her friend the Old Cook died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what she looked like. She had been away over The Hill and across The Water on feasts of her own since they were small (but still incredibly fat) hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls.  
     All that the unsuspecting Belly-donna saw that morning was a hugely buxom woman with a staff. She had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, straining to cover her vast bosom and swollen rear, a silver scarf sadly covering her massive cleavage, and immense black boots.  
     “Good morning!” mumbled Belly-dona around her massive mouthful, and she meant it. The sun was shining, and the food was plentiful and succulent. But Lardass looked at her from over her massive breasts that stuck out farther than the reach of her arms. “What do you mean?” she said. “Do you wish me a good morning; or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”  
     “All of them at once,” said Belly-donna. “And a very fine morning for a snack after breakfast out of doors, into the bargain. If you like, sit down had have your fill of some of mine! There’s no hurry, we have all the day before us to eat, or other things!” she added, ogling the woman’s massive bosom, straining her shirt. Then Belly-donna leaned forward in her seat, grabbed a great double-handful of sugar-coated pastries, and crammed the whole thing in her mouth, chewing and swallowing the massive mouthful gleefully.  
     “Very impressive!” said Lardass. “But I have no time for stuffing myself this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to find anyone.”  
     “I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! Or after-dinner snacks! Or all-night orgies! I can’t think what anybody sees in them,” said our Ms. Big’uns, and grabbed another handful of food to feed herself. She dove into the remains of her after-breakfast snack with intense attention, pretending to take no more notice of the buxom woman. She had decided that she was not quite her sort, and wanted her to go away. But the hugely-endowed woman did not move. She stood leaning on her stick (holding up that massive bosom wasn’t easy) and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Belly-donna got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross.  
     “Good morning!” she said at last. “We don’t want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water.” By this she meant that the conversation was at an end.  
     “What a lot of things you do use ‘good morning’ for!” said Lardass. “Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won’t be good till I move off.”  
     “Not at all, not at all, my dear lady! Let me see, I don’t think I know your name?”  
     “Yes, yes, my dear lady - and I do know your name, Ms. Belly-donna Big’uns. And you do know my name, though you don’t remember that I belong to it. I am Lardass, and Lardass means this!” she continued, turning round to show off her titanic rear end. “To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belly-donna Cook’s daughter, as if I was selling replacement buttons at the door!”  
     “Lardass, Lardass! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Cook a set of magical saucepans that cooked by themselves, and never stopped making food till ordered? Not the one who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about food and feasts and delicacies and the feeding of princesses and the unexpected capacity of women’s bellies? Not the woman that used to make such particularly excellent desserts! I remember those! Old Cook used to have them on Midsummer’s Eve. Splendid! They used to go down easy; doughnuts, and puddings and great cakes and last the whole night long, no matter how many ate them or how fast!” You will notice already that Ms. Big’uns was not quite so prosy as she liked to believe. “Dear me!” she went on. “Not the Lardass who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from eating all the fruit from an entire orchard to eating a whole boat-sized layer cake - or gigantic sex-fests with food and cum flowing wildly! Bless me, people used to get quite bloat-- I mean, you used to overfeed people quite badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business.”  
     “Where else should I be?” asked the wizardess. “All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my confections kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your grand-mother Cook’s sake, and for the sake of your poor mother Belly-donna, I will give what you asked for.”  
“I beg your pardon, I haven’t asked for anything!”  
     “Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact, I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and very filling too, very likely, if you ever get over it.”  
     “Sorry! I don’t want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to lunch - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!”  
     With that the hobbit turned and waddled inside her round green door, her sides nearly scraping the edges, and shut it as quickly as she dared, not to seem rude. Wizards after all are wizards.  
     “What on earth did I ask her to lunch for!” she said to herself, as she went to the pantry. She had finished her after-breakfast snack, but she thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do her good after her fright. She never wasted an excuse for eating. Lardass in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while, she stepped up and with the spike of her staff, scratched a sign on the hobbit’s beautiful green front-door. Then she strode away, just about the time when Belly-donna was finishing her second cake and beginning to think she should have another one. Or two.

     The next day, she had almost forgotten about Lardass. She did not remember things very well, except for recipes and mealtimes, unless she put them down on her Engagement Tablet: like this: _Lardass Lunch Wednesday_. Yesterday she had been too flustered to do anything of the kind. Just before lunch was over, there came a tremendous ring on the front-doorbell, and then she remembered! She rushed and restocked the table with massive amounts of food, and put out several extra cakes, and ran to the door.  
     “I am sorry to keep you waiting!” she was going to say, when she saw that it was not Lardass at all. It was a dwarf-maid, wider than the door, with her belly overflowing a golden belt, and very bright eyes under a dark-green hood. As soon as the door was opened, she squeezed inside, just as if she had been expected.  
     She hung her hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and “D’widen at your service!” she said, bowing as low as she could over her bloated belly.  
     “Belly-donna Big’uns at yours!” said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the silence that followed had become uncomfortable, she added: “I am just about to have lunch; pray come and eat with me.” A little stiff perhaps, but she meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung her things up in your hall without a word of explanation?  
     They had not been at table long, though they had reached the fifth cake each, when there came another even louder ring at the bell.  
     “Excuse me!” said the hobbit, and off she went to the door.  
     “So you have got here at last!” was what she was going to say to Lardass this time. But it was not Lardass. Instead there was a very bloated-looking dwarf with a scarlet hood; and she too bounced inside as soon as the door was open, just as if she had been invited.  
     “I see they have begun to arrive already,” she said in a squeaky voice when she caught sight of D’widen’s green hood hanging up. She hung her red one next to it, and “Balloon at your service!” she said with her hands cradling her round belly.  
     “Thank you!” said Belly-donna with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but _they have begun to arrive_ had flustered her badly. She liked visitors (as good an excuse to eat as any), but she liked to know them before they arrived, and she preferred to ask them herself. She had a horrible thought that even her extensive store of cakes might run short, and then she -- as hostess: she knew her duty and stuck to it however painful -- she might have to only have three or four more.  
     “Come along in, and have some lunch!” she managed to say after taking a deep breath.  
     “A little beer would suit me, if it is all the same to you, my good lady,” said Balloon with the ballooning belly. “But I don’t mind some cake - seed-cake, if you have any.”  
     “Lots, of course!” Belly-donna found herself answering, to her own surprise; and she found herself waddling off, too, to the cellar to fill up a beer pitcher, and to the pantry to fetch a table’s full of large beautiful seed-cakes which she had baked that afternoon for her after-lunch snack, dessert for dinner, and after-dinner morsel.  
     When she got back Balloon and D’widen were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were sisters). Belly-donna plumped down the beer and the cakes in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.  
     “Lardass for certain this time,” she thought as she puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts over which hung massive bellies; and each of them carried a bag of kitchen tools and a frying pan. In they waddled, as soon as the door began to open -- Belly-donna was hardly surprised at all.  
     “What can I do for you, my dwarves?” she said. “Feedee at your service!” said the one. “And Foodie!” added the other.  
     “At yours and your family’s!” replied Belly-donna, remembering her manners this time.  
     “D’widen and Balloon here already, I see,” said Foodie. “ Let us join the throng!”  
     “Throng!” thought Ms. Big’uns. “I don’t like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have something to eat.” She had only just had a (cheek-stretchingly huge) mouthful -- in the corner, while the four dwarves sat around the table, and talked about mutton and roast goose, and the trouble with goblins, and appetites of dragons, and lots of other things which she did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous - when, _ding-dong-a-ling-dang_ , her bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off. “Someone at the door!” she said, blinking. “Some four, I should say by the sound,” said Feedee. “Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance.”  
     The poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put her head in her hands, and wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and she had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was FIVE. Another dwarf had come along while she was wondering in the hall. She had hardly turned the knob, before they were all inside, bowing over the massive bellies and endowments and saying “at your service” one after another. Feeder, Eater, Treater, Gut, and Glut were their names; and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with wide bellies swinging over their gold and silver belts to join the others. Already, it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; and so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while.  
     A big jug of coffee had just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on a round of huge iced scones when there came a loud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit’s beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick!  
     Belly-donna rushed along the passage, as fast as she could with her fat body, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered - this was the most awkward Wednesday she ever remembered, including that one time where her neighbor caught her naked in her front yard, stuffed so much that she couldn’t move, with the remains of her massive intake, and her shredded clothes, strewn all around her. She pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in, one on top of the other. More dwarves, four more! And there was Lardass behind, leaning on her staff and laughing. She had quite a dent on the beautiful door; she had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that she had put there the morning before.  
     “Carefully! Carefully!” she said. “It is not like you, Belly-donna, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-over exploding!” Let me introduce, Bigger, Blogger, Bom-berry, and especially, More-in!”  
     “At your service!” said Bigger, Blogger, and Bom-berry standing in a row. “I’m posting this on-line,” added Blogger, pulling out a smart-phone. Then they hung up two yellow hoods and a pale green one; and also a sky-blue one with a silver tassel. This last belonged to More-in, an enormously important (and enormously endowed) dwarf, in fact no other than the great More-in Oakenbowl herself, who was not at all pleased at falling flat on Belly-donna’s mat with Bigger, Blogger, and Bom-berry on top of her. For one thing, Bom-berry was immensely fat and heavy, even more than the average dwarf; she was also tinted blue, and sloshed when she moved. More-in indeed was very haughty, and said nothing about service; but poor Ms. Big’uns said she was sorry so many times, that at last she grunted “pray don’t mention it,” and stopped frowning.  
     “Now we are all here!” said Lardass, looking at the row of thirteen hoods -- the best detachable party hoods -- and her own hat hanging on the pegs. “Quite a merry gathering!  
     “I hope there is something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What’s that? Tea? No thank you! Red wine, I think, for me.” “And for me,” said More-in, “and keep it coming, till I say so.” “And raspberry jam and apple-tarts,” said Bigger. “And mince-pies and cheese,” said Blogger. “And pork-pie and salad, drowning in dressing,” said Bom-berry. “and more cakes -- and ale -- and coffee if you don’t mind,” called the other dwarves through the door.  
     “Put on eggs, there’s a good girl!” Lardass called after her, as the hobbit stumped off to the food wing. “And just bring out the cold chicken and pickles! And the ham steaks! And the chocolate cake! And the piles of sugar cookies!”  
     “Seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself!” thought Ms. Big’uns, who was feeling positively flummoxed, and was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into her house. By the time she had got all the bottles and dishes and knives and forks and glasses and plates and spoons and things piled up on big trays, she was getting very hot, and red in the face, and annoyed.  
     “Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!” she said aloud. “Why don’t they come and lend a hand?” Lo and behold! there stood Balloon and D’widen at the door of the kitchen, and Feedee and Foodie behind them, and before she could say knife, with many pats of her ass, and a few gropes of her bulging bosom, they had whisked the trays and a couple of small tables into the parlor and set out everything afresh.  
     Lardass sat at the head of the party with the thirteen dwarves all round: and Belly-donna sat on a stool at the fireside, cramming biscuit after biscuit in her mouth (only a dozen or so; her appetite was quite taken away), and trying to look as if this was all perfectly ordinary and not in the least an adventure. The dwarves ate and ate, and talked and talked, and ate and ate some more, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back, and most of the dwarves opened their belts to release their newly stuffed and much fatter bellies. Some of their shirts had given up the ghost and showed glimpses of their large bosoms through tears in the fabric. Belly-donna made a move to collect the plates and glasses.  
     “I suppose you will all stay to supper?” she said in her politest unpressing tones. “Of course!” said More-in, never one to miss a free meal, especially a hobbit-sized one. “And after. We shan’t get through the business until late, and we must have some fun first. Now to clear the slates. We dwarves have a tradition: when we have partaken of a host’s food and drink, we return the favor to the host. Ms. Big’uns, come to the table please.”  
     Belly-donna rose shakily and crossed to the table. She sat, looking quizzically around at the dwarves.  
     Thereupon, the twelve dwarves -- not More-in, she was too important, and stayed talking to Lardass -- jumped to their feet and made tall piles of the remaining food. Off they went, not waiting for trays, and formed columns along both sides of the table, with Feeder and Treater by Belly-donna’s head. The rest of the dwarves took their piles of food, one by one, and passed them up the table to be fed to Belly-donna.  
     One pile after another, the dwarves crammed all the remaining food into Belly-donna. She quickly got over her surprise (not knowing the dwarf-custom before-hand), and eagerly opened her mouth wide for the dwarves.  
Only too happy to oblige, the dwarves worked hard to feed Belly-donna, cramming the huge piles into her gaping maw, pushing the last pile right down her throat by main force. They started to sing:

> _Feed the hobbit and stuff her well!_  
>  _Cram her mouth with everything!_  
>  _Let’s make Belly’ Big’uns full --_  
>  _Pack her full with each last wing!_  
>  _Cut the cake and shove it down!_  
>  _Pour the milk right down her throat!_  
>  _Carve the meat, enough for the town!_  
>  _Flood her mouth with wine for a moat!_  
>  _Dump it all into her craw!_  
>  _Push them down; don’t let her gnaw!_  
>  _Get her huge, to snap her bra;_  
>  _Feed too fast to work her jaw!_  
>  _That’s what Belly’ Big’uns needs!_  
>  _So hurry up, hurry up, make her feed!_

     Steadily, the dwarves kept stuffing Belly-donna, keeping time with their song; her already-bulging belly grew steadily larger and wider as all the food left by the dwarves flowed into her. Our Ms. Big’uns reached out and cradled her growing belly between her hands, moaning in pleasure around the massive deluge of food. Feeder and Treater answered her moans by groping and rubbing all over her body, drawing more pleasurable moans from Belly-donna around the food packing her mouth.  
     Quickly, Belly-donna’s stomach reached its capacity, growing taut against her shirt. But the dwarves still had much more food left, and they kept going. Soon, Belly-donna was completely stuffed, every stitch of her clothing completely shredded (showing her massive bosom and her vast belly), the belly itself trembling in time with her pulse, and the food even filling up her throat to the very top. Still the dwarves stuffed her, pushing more food in, stretching her cheeks as they strove to get all the food into her. Belly-donna herself, eagerly helping, forced her lips closed (between those times when the dwarves’ food was actively pushing inside), to keep hold of the food already inside her.  
     There was still a goodly amount of food left to cram into the hobbit when her mouth finally reached capacity. Belly-donna’s mouth was stretched wide, more than three times its normal span with the massive load (and she couldn’t close her mouth anymore; she had to lean back to keep the food from falling out), her throat was bloated visibly, and her belly had grown, just in the minutes of the extensive feeding, to five times its prior girth.  
     The dwarves left their stuffing for a while, and all gathered round the immobile hobbit. Treater and Blogger leaned in and grabbed hold of Belly-donna’s now-gigantic breasts, caressing and rubbing them, and locked their lips around Belly-donna’s bloated nipples, suckling at them and pulling even more moans of pleasure from her stuffed mouth. Gut and Glut went to her belly, stroking it to ease the overstuffed discomfort of it, and tickling gently at her taut skin. Feedee and Foodie crawled under Ms. Big’uns’s gargantuan belly, questing for her pussy. Finding it easily, pushing her burst pants out of their way, one shoved her whole hand inside, while the other lapped at Belly-donna’s juices, gushing now with her indescribable pleasure at being so vastly stuffed.  
     Watching the dwarves minstering to their hostess, Lardass rose and crossed to stand over the immobile hobbit, gazing down at her. “Well, Ms. Big’uns, are you content? Or do you want yet more food stuffed down your greedy gullet?” Her mouth, indeed her whole body, filled to its absolute limit, Belly-donna looked up at Lardass blearily and nodded weakly. Lardass smiled wrily. “You want still more, do you? Very well.”  
     Lardass raised her staff and gently put its head at Belly-donna’s lips. Muttering softly a spell, she pushed the staff into the hobbit’s mouth, and the food in her mouth and throat was pushed down into her belly, blowing it up even bigger. Now that her mouth was free, the idle dwarves descended again, stuffing Belly-donna even faster than before. The six pleasuring her directly kept up their work, keeping her cumming over and over as the downed the rest of the massive feast. The spell Lardass had put on her did its work, and the dwarves had no trouble at all cramming the last of the food inside her.  
     With every bite of food left from the party packed inside her, Belly-donna was wedged in the chair, her body squeezed between the arms, and stuck tight. Her belly, bloated up larger than her the rest of her body, rose majestically above her, reaching higher than her head and billowing out, propped up on the table, and covering more than half its surface. Her throat even more distended, and again a massive mouthful that couldn’t be forced down bulging her cheeks even wider than ever. Belly-donna herself was barely conscious, in a food-coma, fed to absolute capacity and beyond.  
     Lardass, thinking she deserved something for her efforts, pulled down her shirt, revealing her enormous breasts in all their magnificence, and pushed one of them right in Belly-donna’s mouth, pushing the food in deeper. Even semi-conscious, the hobbit instinctively started sucking on the erect nipple. Lardass herself dropped her staff and putting one hand between her legs, and rubbing her bloated ass with the other, got herself off as Belly-donna licked her breasts.  
     The dwarves finally looked up, panting with the effort of feeding and pleasuring the insatiable hobbit. Feedee and Foodie crawled out from under her massive belly, and both fairly drenched in Ms. Big’uns’s juices, took a moment to lick each other clean.  
     “Now for some music!” said More-in. “bring out the instruments, while our esteemed Ms. Big’uns sleeps off our payment!”  
     Feedee and Foodie waddled for their bags and brought back little fiddles; Feeder, Eater, and Treater brought out flutes from somewhere inside their coats; Bom-berry produced a drum from the hall; Bigger and Blogger went out too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the walking-sticks. D’widen and Balloon said: “Excuse me, I left mine of the porch!” “Just bring mine in with you,” said More-in. They came back with viols as big as themselves, and with More-in’s harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when More-in struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Belly-donna awoke instantly, gulping the last of her stuffing session down instinctively, forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from her hobbit-hole under The Hill, piled with strange and wonderful foods in endless quantity.  
     The dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the side of The Hill; the firelight flickered -- it was April -- and still they played on, while the shadow of Lardass’s bosom billowed against the wall.  
     The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and still they played on. And suddenly, first one and then another began to sing as they played, deep-throated singing of the dwarves in the deep places of their ancient homes; and this is like a fragment of their song, if it can be like their song without their music.

> _Far over the meaty mountains cold_  
>  _To pantries deep and kitchens old_  
>  _We must away ere break of day_  
>  _To seek the pastries brushed with gold_
> 
> _The dwarves of yore made mighty meals_  
>  _While pots and pans rang like bells’ peals_  
>  _In storerooms deep, where food did keep_  
>  _In well-stocked halls beneath the hills._
> 
> _For ancient king and elvish lord_  
>  _There many a tasty, fattened hoard_  
>  _They cooked and baked, and thirst they slaked_  
>  _With deep rich ale and laden board._
> 
> _On silver platters well they laid_  
>  _The massive feasts, on plates they made_  
>  _The spicy fire, of cinnamon spire_  
>  _They meshed with pastries wound in plaits._
> 
> _Far over the meaty mountains cold_  
>  _To pantries deep and kitchens old_  
>  _We must away, ere break of day,_  
>  _To claim our pastries brushed with gold._
> 
> _Gourmet feasts, made for themselves_  
>  _And ales of gold; where no man delves_  
>  _They dined apace, and many a taste_  
>  _Was untasted by men or elves._
> 
> _The pines were roaring on the height,_  
>  _Well-fed guts moaning in the night._  
>  _The fire was red, it flaming spread;_  
>  _The trees like torches blazed with light._
> 
> _The bells were ringing in the dale_  
>  _And men looked up with faces pale;_  
>  _The dragon’s desire more fierce than fire_  
>  _Laid low their stores and kitchens frail._
> 
> _The mountain smoked beneath the moon;_  
>  _The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom._  
>  _They fled their hall to dying fall_  
>  _In her gullet, beneath the moon._
> 
> _Over the meaty mountains far._  
>  _To caverns deep where kitchens are_  
>  _We must away, ere break of day,_  
>  _To win our confections from her!_

     As they sang the hobbit felt the love of epicurean things made by hands and cunning and by magic moving through her, a fierce and jealous love, the desire in the stomachs of dwarves. Then something Cookish woke up inside her, and she wished to go and see the great mountains of pastries, and hear the chewing and the swallowing, and explore the pantries, and bear a spoon instead of a walking-stick. She looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky about the trees. She thought of the confections of dwarves glistening on laden tables. Suddenly in the wood beyond The Water a flame leapt up -- probably somebody lighting a cooking-fire -- and she thought of plundering dragons settling on her quiet Hill and eating all and sundry. She shuddered; and very quickly was plain Ms. Big’uns of Big-End, Under-Hill, again.  
     She got up trembling. She had less than half a mind to fetch more food, and more than half a mind to pretend to, and go and hide behind the beer barrels in the cellar, drinking unendingly, and not come out again until all the dwarves had gone away. Suddenly she found that the music and the singing had stopped, and they were all looking at her with eyes shining in the dark.  
     “Where are you going?” asked More-in, in a tone that seemed to show that she guessed both halves of the hobbit’s mind.  
     “What about a little snack?” said Belly-donna apologetically.  
     “Not just now, thank you,” said the dwarves. “We need our wits for this business! There are many hours before dawn.”  
     “Of course!” said Belly-donna, and sat down in a hurry. She missed the stool and sat in the fender, knocking over the poker and shovel with a crash.  
     “Hush!” said Lardass. “Let More-in speak!” And this is how More-in began.  
     “Lardass, dwarves, and Ms. Big’uns! We are not together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit - may her belly and bosom never grow less! all praise to her food and drink! --” She paused for breath and for a polite remark from the hobbit, but the compliments were quite lost on poor Belly-donna Big’uns, who was wagging her mouth in protest at being called _audacious_ and worst of all _fellow conspirator_ , though no noise came out, she was so flummoxed. So More-in went on:  
     “We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policy and devices. We shall soon before the break of day start on our long journey, a journey from which some of us, or perhaps all of us (except our friend and counsellor, the curvaceous wizard Lardass) may never return. It is a solemn moment. Our object is, I take it, well known to us all. To the hugely-proportioned Ms. Big’uns, and perhaps to one or two of the younger dwarves (I think I should be right in naming Feedee and Foodie, for instance), the exact situation at the moment may require a brief explanation -”  
     This was More-in’s style. She was an important dwarf. If she had been allowed, she would probably have gone on like this until she was out of breath, without telling any one there anything that was not known already. But she was rudely interrupted. Poor Belly-donna couldn’t bear it any longer. At _may never return_ , she began to feel a shriek coming up inside, and very soon it burst out like the whistle of a tea-pot bubbling with sweet tea. All the dwarves sprang up, bellies flopping everywhere and knocking over the table. Lardass struck a blue light on the end of her magic staff, and in its firework glare the poor hobbit could be seen kneeling on the hearth-rug, shaking like a Jell-o mold. Then she fell flat on her belly, rolling around on top of it, and kept calling out “struck by lightning, struck by lightning!” over and over again; and that was all they could get out of her for a long time. So they took her and laid her out of the way by the drawing-room table with piles and piles of food at her elbow, and they went back to their dark business.  
     “Excitable little lady,” said Lardass, as they sat down again. “Gets funny queer fits, but she is one of the best, one of the best -- as fierce as a dragon in a pinch.”  
     If you have ever seen a dragon in a pinch, you will realize that this was only a poetical exaggeration applied to any hobbit, even to Old Cook’s great-grandaunt Bellystuffer, who was so huge (even for a hobbit) that she could eat a whole banquet table by herself. She charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the battle of Green Fields, and ate their king Gut-biggest in one bite, and in this way the battle was won, and the fetish of “voraphilia” invented at the same moment.  
     In the meanwhile, however, Bellystuffer’s gentler descendant was stuffing her own already-massive belly in the drawing-room. After a while (doubling her belly’s girth), she crept nervously to the door of the parlor. This is what she heard, Glut speaking: “Humph!” (or some snort more or less like that). “Will she do, do you think? It is all very well for Lardass to talk about this hobbit being fierce, but one shriek like that in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon and all her relatives, and eat the lot of us. I think it sounded more like fright than excitement! In fact, if it had not been for the sign on the door, I should have been sure we had come to the wrong house. As soon as I clapped eyes on the fat girl bobbing and puffing on the mat, I had my doubts. She looks more like a grocer than a burglar!”  
     Then Ms. Big’uns turned the handle and went in. The Cook side had won. She suddenly felt that she would go with no bed and little breakfast (only a dozen or so donuts and scones each) to be thought fierce. As for _fat girl bobbing on the mat_ it almost made her really fierce. Many a time afterwards the Big’uns part regretted what she did now, and she said to herself: “Belly’, you were a fool; you waddled right in and put your foot in it.”  
     “Pardon me,” she said, “if I have overheard words that you were saying. I don’t pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to burglars, but I think I am right in believing” (this is what she called being on her dignity) “that you think I am no good. I will show you. I have no signs on my door -- it was painted a week ago -- and I am quite sure you have come to the wrong house. As soon as I saw your big bellies on the door-step, I had my doubts. But treat it as the right one. Tell me what you want done, and I will try it, if I have to walk from here to the East of East and starve in short commons in the Last Desert. I had a great-great-great-grandaunt once, Bellystuffer Cook, and --”  
     “Yes, yes, but that was long ago,” said Glut. “I was talking about _you_. And I assure you there is a mark on this door -- the usual one in the trade, or it used to be. Burglar wants a good job, plenty of Nourishment and reasonable Fucking, that’s how it is usually read. You can say Expert Edibles-hunter instead of Burglar if you like. Some of them do. It’s all the same to us. Lardass told us that there was a woman of the sort in these parts looking for a job at once, and that she had arranged for a meeting here this Wednesday lunch-time.”  
     “Of course there is a mark,” said Lardass. “I put it there myself. For very good reasons. You asked me to find the fourteenth woman for your expedition, and I chose Ms. Big’uns. Just let anyone say I chose the wrong woman or the wrong house, and you can stop at thirteen and have all the bad luck you like, or go back to catering for others.”  
     She scowled so angrily at Glut that the dwarf huddled back in her chair; and when Belly-donna tried to open her mouth to ask a question, she turned and frowned at her and stuck out her massive bosom, till Belly-donna shut her mouth tight with a snap. “That’s right,” said Lardass. “Let’s have no more argument. I have chosen Ms. Big’uns and that ought to be enough for all of you. If I say she is a Burglar, a Burglar she is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in her that you guess, and a deal more than she has any idea of herself. You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet. Now, Belly-donna, my dear, fetch the lamp, and let’s have a little light on this!”  
     On the table in the light of a big lamp with a red shade she spread a piece of parchment rather like a map.  
     “This was made by Forker, your grandmother, More-in,” she said in answer to the dwarves’ excited questions. “It is a plan of the Mountain.”  
     “I don’t see that this will help us much,” said More-in disappointedly after a glance. “I remember the Mountain well enough and the lands about it. And I know where Gorge-wood is, and the Withered Heath where the great dragons bred.”  
     “There is a dragon marked in red on the Mountain,” said Balloon, “but it will be easy enough to find her without that, if ever we arrive there.”  
     “There is one point that you haven’t noticed,” said the wizard, “and that is the secret entrance. You see that rune on the West side, and the hand pointing to it from the other Runes? That marks a hidden passage to the Lower Kitchens.”  
     “It may have been secret once,” said More-in, “but how do we know that it is secret any longer? Old Scarf-down has lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves.”  
     “She may--but she can’t have used it for years and years.”  
     “Why?”  
     “Because it is too small. ‘Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast’ say the runes, but Scarf-down could not creep in a hole that size, not even when she was a young dragon, certainly not after devouring so many of the dwarves and men of Dale, and all their food.”  
     “It seems a great big hole to me,” squeaked Belly-donna (who had no experience of dragons and only of hobbit-holes). She was getting excited and interested again, so that she forgot to keep her mouth shut. She loved maps (almost as much as eating), and in her hall there hung a large one of the Country Round with all her favorite walks, and the food stores, and willing lovers, of both sexes, on each one, marked on it in red ink. “How could such a large door be kept secret from everybody outside, apart from the dragon?” she asked. She was only a young hobbit, you must remember.  
     “In lots of ways,” said Lardass. “But in what way this one has been hidden we don’t know without going to see. From what it says on the map I should guess there is a closed door which has been made to look exactly like the side of the Mountain. That is the usual dwarves’ method - I think that is right, isn’t it?” “Quite right, when we have food supplies to hide,” said More-in.  
     “Also,” went on Lardass, “I forgot to mention that with the map went a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!” she said, and handed to More-in a key with a long barrel and intricate wards, made of silver, which she drew from her voluminous bosom. “Keep it safe!”  
     “Indeed I will,” said More-in, and she slipped it into her own large bosom (not so large as Lardass’s). “Now things begin to look more hopeful. This news alters them much for the better. So far we have had no clear idea what to do. We thought of going East, as quiet and careful as we could, as far as the Long Lake. After that the trouble would begin.”  
     “A long time before that, if I know anything about the roads East,” interrupted Lardass.  
     “We might go from there up along the River Running,” went on More-in, taking no notice, “and so to the ruins of Dale, the old town in the valley there, under the shadow of the Mountain. But we none of us like the idea of the Front Gate. The river runs right out of it through the great cliff at the South of the Mountain, and out of it comes the dragon too -- far too often, unless she has changed.”  
     “That would be no good,” said the wizard, “not without a mighty Warrior, even a Hero. I tried to find one; but warriors are busy fucking and feasting in distant lands, and in this neighborhood heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly carving-knives, and axes for trees, and shields as dish-covers; and dragons are comfortably far-off (and therefore legendary). That is why I settled on burglary -- especially when I remembered the existence of a Side-door. And here is our pudgy Belly-donna Big’uns, the burglar, the chosen and selected burglar. So now let’s get on and make some plans.”  
     “Very well then,” said More-in, “supposing the burglar-expert gives us some ideas or suggestions.” She turned with mock-politeness to Belly-donna.  
     “First I should like to know a bit more about things,” said she, feeling all confused and a bit shaky inside, but so far still Cookishly determined to go on with things. “I mean about the food and the dragon and all that, and how it got there, and who it belongs to, and so on and further.”  
     “Bless me!” Said More-in, “haven’t you got a map? and didn’t you hear our song? and haven’t we been talking about this for hours?”  
     “All the same, I should like it all plain and clear,” said she obstinately, putting on her business manner (usually reserved for people who tried to borrow food off her), and doing her best to appear wise and prudent and professional and live up to Lardass’s recommendation. “Also I should like to know about risks, out-of-pocket expenses, time required and remuneration, provisions, and so forth” -- by which she meant: “what am I going to get out of it? how much can I eat on the way? and am I going to come back alive?”  
     “O very well,” said More-in. “Long ago in my grandmother Forker’s time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their confections and cooking gear to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Gain the Large, but now they cooked and they brewed and they made huger cakes and greater kitchens -- and in addition I believe they found a good deal of money and a great many food sources too. Anyway they grew immensely fat and famous, and my grandmother was Queen Under the Mountain again and treated with great reverence by the mortal men who lived in the South and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our chefs, and rewarded even the least skillful most richly. Mothers would beg us to take their daughters and feed them up and bed them, and pay us handsomely for each pound they put on, and each climax they had. Altogether those were good days for us, and the hungriest of us had food to stuff in themselves and others, and leisure to eat massive feasts just for the fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical desserts, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandmother’s halls became full of food and drink and obesity and sexual games, and the food-market of Dale was the wonder of the North.  
     “Undoubtedly, that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal food and drink, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is practically forever, unless they are killed), and never eat a morsel of it. Indeed they hardly know gourmet from slop, though they usually have a good notion of the flavor profile (sweet, savory, sour, and so on); and they can’t cook a thing for themselves, not even a salad. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and free food was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting eaten, and all the general waste and food-hoarding that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and ravenous worm called Scarf-down. One day she flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside (I was one luckily -- a fine hungry lass I was in those days, always outside for picnics, and it saved my life that day) -- well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then she came down the slopes and when she reached the woods most went down her gullet. The rest, the dragon used for her own pleasure, stuffing them inside her pussy and getting off on their writhing. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting open-mouthed for them. None escaped her maw. The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon cam on them and ate most of the warriors -- the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then she went back and crept through the Front Gate and rooted through all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages, eating everything as she went. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and she took all their provender for herself. Probably, for that is the dragons’ way, she has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed; dragons can preserve food indefinitely that way. Later she used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don’t know for certain, but I don’t suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days.  
     “The few of us that were eating outside sat and wept in hiding, consoling ourselves with food, and cursed Scarf-down; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my mother and my grandmother, dripping with icing. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to stuff my mouth and be silent, and said that in the proper time I should know. After that we went away, and we had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as catering-work or even waitressing. But we have never forgotten our stolen foodstuffs. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit of food available to us, and are not so hungry” -- here More-in stroked her huge belly, reaching far in front of her-- “we still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Scarf-down -- if we can.  
     “I have often wondered about my mother’s and my grandmother’s escape. I see now that they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about. But apparently they made a map, and I should like to know how Lardass got hold of it, and why it did not come down to me, the rightful heir.”  
     “I did not ‘get hold of it,’ I was given it,” said the wizard. “Your grandmother Forker was stuffed so much by the goblins that she popped, you remember, in the pantries of Moria by Azog the Goblin--”  
     “Curse her name, yes” said More-in.  
     “And Gain your mother went away on the twentieth of April, a hundred years ago last Thursday, and has never been seen by you since--”  
     “True, true,” said More-in.  
     “Well, your mother gave me this to give to you; and if I have chosen my own time and way of handing it over, you can hardly blame me, considering the trouble I had to find you. Your mother could not remember her own name when she gave me the paper, and she never told me yours; so on the whole I think I ought to be praised and thanked. Here it is,” said she, handing the map to More-in.  
     “I don’t understand,” said More-in, and Belly-donna felt she would have liked to say the same. The explanation did not seem to explain.  
     “Your grandmother,” said the wizard slowly and grimly, “gave the map to her daughter for safety before she went to the pantries of Moria. Your mother went away to try her luck with the map after your grandmother was killed; and lots of adventures and feasts she had, but she never got near the Mountain. How she got there I don’t know, but I found her a prisoner in the kitchens of the Gastronomist.”  
     “Whatever were you doing there?” asked More-in with a shudder, and all the dwarves shivered.  
     “Never you mind. I was finding things out, as usual; and a nasty dangerous business it was. Even I, Lardass, only just managed to eat my way out. I tried to save your mother, but it was too late. She was stuffed into immobility and witlessness, and had forgotten almost everything except the map and the key. And her next meal. I could barely get her to stop stuffing herself even to tell me about the map and the key. Though I don’t know for sure, I believe that she must have ended up a willing participant, and that the Gastronomist just kept on stuffing her till one day, she filled up so fast she exploded.” “We have long ago paid the goblins of Moria,” said More-in; “we must give a thought to the Gastronomist.” “Don’t be absurd! She is a feeder quite beyond the powers of all the dwarves put together, if they could be all be collected again from the four corners of the world. She would stuff the lot of you so gigantically fat, so impossibly full, that you would never move again. The one thing your mother wished was for her daughter to read the map and use the key. The dragon and Mountain are more than big enough tasks for you!”  
     “Hear, hear!” said Belly-donna, and accidentally said it aloud. “Hear what?” they all said, turning suddenly towards her, and she was so flustered that she answered “hear what I have got to say!” “What’s that?” they asked.  
     “Well, I should say that you ought to go East and have a look round. After all there is the Side-door, and dragons must sleep sometimes, I suppose. If you sit on the doorstep long enough, I daresay you will think of something. And well, don’t you know, I think we have talked long enough for one night, if you see what I mean. What about a late-night snack, and bed, and an early start, and all that? I will give you a good breakfast before you go, too.”  
     “Before we go, I suppose you mean,” said More-in. “Aren’t you the burglar? And isn’t sitting on the door-step your job, not to speak of getting inside the door? But I agree about snacks and bed, and breakfast. For our snack, let’s just finish the pantry we started. I like eggs with my ham for breakfast, when starting on a journey; fried not poached, and mind you don’t stint on ‘em.”  
     After all the others had stuffed themselves even fatter with the entire contents of her fourth pantry, and had ordered their breakfasts without so much as a please (which annoyed Belly-donna very much, even if she did keep up with the lot of them, eating her midnight snack), they all finally levered their massive bellies up. The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all her spare-rooms as the dwarves went to bed in pairs (or more) for some more pleasure during the night, before she got them all stowed and went to her own bed very tired and not altogether happy (though very well stuffed). One thing she did make up her mind about was not to bother to get up very early and cook everybody else’s wretched breakfast. She was going to eat it all herself; that would show them. The Cookishness was wearing off, and she was not now quite so sure that she was going on any journey in the morning. As she lay in bed she could hear More-in still humming as she likely ate out Balloon in the best bedroom next to her:  
     Belly-donna, with that in her ears, dropped one hand between her legs and rubbed the other over her still-enormous belly and up to her breasts, squeezing each nipple in return, and finally fell alseep to dreams filled with massive feedings and drunken binges, as well as much fucking of the dwarves, singly and in groups. It was long after the break of day, when she woke up. 


	2. Stuffed Glutton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure begins. Belly-donna and the dwarves meet their first trouble; three hungry and horny trolls.

     Up jumped Belly-donna, and not bothering with her dressing-gown went into the dining-room. There she saw nobody, but all the signs of a very large but hurried breakfast, and also of quickies all over her house. There was a fearful mess in the room, and piles of unwashed crocks in the kitchen. Nearly every pot and pan she possessed seemed to have been used, and various stains were evident on most of the table-cloths, and several carpets. The washing-up was so dismally real that Belly-donna was forced to believe the party of the night before had not been part of her sexy and food-filled dreams, as she had rather hoped. Indeed she was really relieved after all to think that they had all gone without her, and without bothering to wake her up (“but with never a thank-you, beyond the amazing feeding and sex” she thought, rubbing her still-swollen belly, and dropping her hand down lower for a quick mini-climax); and yet in a way she could not help feeling just a trifle disappointed. The feeling surprised her.  
     “Don’t be a fool, Belly-donna Big’uns!” she said to herself, “thinking of dragons and all that outlandish nonsense when there’s food to stuff in yourself!” So she put on an apron, right over her naked body, lit fires, boiled water, and washed up. Then she went to her pantry, and was dismayed to find that, besides her fourth pantry from last night, the entire fifth pantry was left empty and echoing by the dwarves for their breakfast. She promptly went to the third, and retrieved enough food for a truly prodigious breakfast (she felt she had earned it with the disturbance of the night before and the washing-up) and settled in for a massive meal to ease her mind after the close escape from adventure. By that time, the sun was shining; and the front door was open, letting in a warm spring breeze and the teasing awareness that somebody could catch her stuffing herself wantonly. She sat nude in full view of the front door, her belly and breasts displayed to the world as they expanded with her unabashed gluttony.  
     A long while later, she sat in full view of her open front door, belly bulging and glistening in the sunshine, lolling half-asleep as she rubbed her belly (and pussy) languidly, luxuriating in the sensations. Gradually, she decided that she wasn’t yet satisfied, and, still naked, went to finish emptying out the fifth pantry for a second round.  
     She was barely halfway through the second, equally massive breakfast in the dining-room by the open window, feeding herself with one hand while she pleasured herself with the other, when in walked Lardass. “My dear girl,” said she, ignoring, for the moment, Belly-donna playing with her own enormously enlarged naked body, “whenever are you going to come?” (“I already have, several times, and hope to again when I’ve finished stuffing all this inside my belly,” Belly-donna muttered.) “What about an early start?” the wizard continued. “And here you are having your pleasure, with this much food, at half past ten! They left you a message, because they could not wait.”  
     “What message?” said poor Ms. Big’uns all in a fluster.  
     “Great Elephants!” said Lardass, “you are not at all yourself this morning--you haven’t snacked on your morning candies!”  
     “What’s that got to do with it? I needed much more sustenance than that after washing up for fourteen!”  
     “If you had gone for your candies, you would have found this on top of the bowl,” said Lardass, handing Belly-donna a note (written, of course, on her own note-paper).  
     This is what she read:  
     “More-in and Company to Burglar Belly-donna greeting!  
     “For your hospitality our sincerest thanks, and for your offer of professional assistance our grateful acceptance. Terms: ready on delivery, up to and not exceeding one fourteenth of total foodstuffs retrieved (if any); all travelling expenses guaranteed in any event, including all meals; funeral expenses to be defrayed by us or our representatives, if occasion arises and the matter is not otherwise arranged for.  
     “Thinking it unnecessary to disturb your esteemed recovery from our monumental feeding of your person, we have proceeded in advance to make requisite preparations, and shall await your respected person at the Green Dragon Inn, Bywater, at 11 a.m. sharp. Trusting that you will be punctual,  
     “We have the honor to remain  
     “Yours expandingly,  
     “More-in & Co.”  
     “That leaves you just ten minutes. You will have to hurry,” said Lardass.  
     “But--” said Belly-donna.  
     “No time for it, not if we’re going to finish what you started before you go” said the wizard.  
     “What--” said Belly-donna again, cut off as Lardass leaned in and planted a deep kiss on her, playing with her tongue all through Belly-donna’s mouth.  
     “We can’t take time for a proper send-off for you my lovely, but let’s do what we can,” she said as she backed off for a moment. She leaned back in, pulling her gown open and revealing her gigantic breasts again. Belly-donna remembered those from last night, well enough, and eagerly latched on to one, so large that she had to stretch her jaw to cram just cover the areola. Lardass gasped and reached around to squeeze Belly-donna’s ass tight, digging her nails in to draw a gasp in return.  
     Leaving her massive breast in Belly-donna’s mouth, Lardass reached down and squeezed the hobbit’s nipples, making her squeal and sending delightful sound-vibrations through her own breast-flesh. Crying aloud her pleasure, Lardass gently pushed Belly-donna down onto her back, and lowered her enormous butt-cheeks onto her, pinning her down with her pussy lips meeting Belly-donna’s lips. Happily, Belly-donna drove her tongue deep inside, digging for Lardass’s clit. Once she found it, she suckled on it like a nipple, throwing Lardass backwards onto her belly to writhe in unbearable pleasure.  
     Lardass knew that her own breasts were far, far too huge to 69 with the hobbit, so she rolled off of her and leaned in to lick her way down Belly-donna’s body, servicing her breasts and suckling the nipples, kissing and licking her way over the massive belly, and finally locking her own lips onto Belly-donna’s pussy. Driving her tongue even deeper than was done to her, she grabbed onto Belly-donna’s rear again, pulling herself in. She felt the hobbit growing closer, and sure enough, within moments, Belly-donna’s juices gushed all over Lardass’s face as the hobbit screamed in orgasm.  
Lardass released her hold on Belly-donna’s ass, and crawled up to give another deep kiss, sharing their juices between them. She always loved tasting herself on someone else’s lips. They lay there a long moment, basking in afterglow.

     To the end of her days, Belly-donna could never remember how she suddenly found herself bolting the rest of her massive second breakfast standing up, going outside still chewing, and without a hat, backpack full of food or any money, or anything that she usually took when she went out, pushing her keys into Lardass’s hands, and waddling as fast as her flabby body could go down the lane, still pulling on her clothing (and flashing her massive endowments and belly to any and all passers-by), past the great Mill, across The Water, and then on for a whole mile or more. Very puffed she was, when she got to Bywater just on the stroke of eleven, still desperately tying her blouse, and found she had come without a pocket-handkerchief!  
     “Bravo!” squeaked Balloon who was standing at the inn door looking out for her.  
     Just then all the others came round the corner of the road from the village. They were on ponies, and each pony was slung about with all kinds of baggages, packages, parcels, and paraphernalia, especially huge amounts of food supplies for their trip. There was a small pony, apparently for Belly-donna.  
     “Up you two get, and off we go!” said More-in.  
     “I’m awfully sorry,” said Belly-donna, “But I have come without my hat, and I have left my pocket-handkerchief behind, and I haven’t got any money. I didn’t get your note until after 10:45 to be precise.”  
     “Don’t be precise,” said D’widen, “and don’t worry! You will have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs, and a good many other things, before you get to the journey’s end. As for a hat, I have got a spare hood and cloak in my luggage.”  
     That’s how they all came to start, jogging off from the inn one fine morning just before May, on laden ponies; and Belly-donna was wearing a dark-green hood (a little weather-stained) and a dark-green cloak borrowed from D’widen. They were too large for her, D’widen was so fat, and she looked rather comic. What her mother would have thought of her, I daren’t think. Her only comfort was that dwarves weren’t likely to go short of food, and she’d be able to keep herself well-stuffed.  
     They had not been riding very long when up came Lardass very splendid on a white horse. She had brought a lot of pocket-handkerchiefs, and Belly-donna’s walking-pack of food. So after that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they rode forward all day eating steadily on horseback, except of course when they stopped for actual meals, many times larger than their constant munching. These didn’t come quite as often as Belly-donna would have liked them (she could never eat too much, or too frequently), but still she felt happily stuffed full constantly. At first they passed through hobbit-lands, a wild respectable country inhabited by decent folk, with good roads, an inn or two for massive feastings, and now and then a dwarf or a farmer waddling by on business. Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely, and sang songs Belly-donna had never heard before. Now they had gone far into the Lone-Lands, where there were no people left, no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher (reminding them all of Lardass’s excessive bosom and derriere), dark with trees. On some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May can be, even in merry tales, but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-Lands they had to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry. “To think it will soon be June,” grumbled Belly-donna as she splashed along behind the others in a very muddy track (and no time to mud-wrestle with the other women; Belly-donna had always been skilled at it, and wondered how she’d fare against them, and what forfeits they’d exact from her if they could win). It was after tea-time; it was pouring with rain, and had been all day; her hood was dripping into her eyes, her cloak was full of water; the pony was tired, carrying her massive weight, and stumbled on stones; the others were too grumpy to talk. “And I’m sure the rain has got into the dry clothes, and I don’t dare go nude out here; who knows what might happen!” thought Belly-donna. “Bother burgling and everything to do with it! I wish I was at home in my nice hole, eating myself into a coma, with more food waiting than even I could possibly finish! O! I know my fat belly would rub against me, getting me off without my having touch myself!” It was not the last time she thought that!  
     Still the dwarves jogged on, never turning round or taking any notice of the hobbit. Somewhere behind the gray clouds the sun must have gone down, for it began to get dark. Wind got up, and the willows along the river-bank bent and sighed. I don’t know what river it was, a rushing red one, swollen with the rains of the last few days, that came down from the hills and mountains in front of them. Soon it was nearly dark. The winds broke up the gray clouds, and a waning moon appeared above the hills between the flying rags. Then they stopped, and More-in muttered something about supper.  
     After a gigantic supper, all fourteen were well-stuffed, bloated, much much fatter and languid, “but where shall we get a dry patch to sleep on?” More-in muttered. Not until then did they notice that Lardass was missing. So far she had come all the way with them, never saying if she was in the adventure or merely keeping them company for a while. She had eaten well, talked most, and laughed most. But now she was simply not there at all!  
     “Just when a wizard would have been most useful, too,” groaned Eater and Feeder (who shared the hobbit’s views about regular meals, plenty and often, even more than most dwarves). They decided in the end that they would have to camp where they were. So far they had not camped before on this journey, and though they knew that they soon would have to camp regularly, when they were among the Meaty Mountains and far from the lands of respectable people, it seemed a bad wet evening to begin on. They moved to a clump of trees, and though it was drier under them, the wind shook the rain off the leaves, and the drip, drip, was most annoying. Also the mischief seemed to have got into the fire. Dwarves can make a fire almost anywhere out of almost anything (especially when they are out to cook), wind or no wind; but they could not do it that night, not even Gut and Glut, who were specially good at it.  
     Then one of the ponies took fright at nothing and bolted. He got into the river before they could catch him; and before they could get him out again, Feedee and Foodie were nearly drowned, and all the baggage that he carried was washed away off him. Of course, it was mostly food, and while they had (almost literally) tons of food with them, supper, and breakfast after, seemed fated to be smaller than they would prefer. There they all sat glum and wet and muttering, while Gut and Glut went on trying to light the fire, and quarrelling about it. Belly-donna was sadly reflecting that, while cold provender was perfectly fine, it was not nearly so satisfying as hot, fresh cooked feasts, when Balloon, who with a quick inhale could bob along high up in the air, and was always their look-out, said: “There’s a light over there!” There was a hill some way off with trees on it, pretty thick in parts. Out of the dark mass of trees they could now see a light shining, a reddish comfortable-looking light, as it might be a fire or torches twinkling. When they had looked at it for some while, they fell to arguing. Some said they could but go and see, and more food was always better, and wet clothes all night were worst of all. Others said: “These parts are none too well known, and are too near the mountains. Travellers seldom come this way now. The old maps are no use: things have changed for the worse and the road is unguarded. They have seldom even heard of the king round here, and the less inquisitive you are as you go along, the less trouble your are likely to find.” Some said: “After all there are fourteen of us.” Others said: “Where has Lardass got to?” This remark was repeated by everybody. Then the rain began to pour down worse than ever, and Gut and Glut began to fight. That settled it. “After all we have got a burglar with us,” they said; and so they came to the hill and were soon in the wood. Up the hill they went; but there was no proper path to be seen, such as might lead to a house or a farm; and do what they could they made a deal of rustling and crackling and creaking (they were all far too fat to move quietly between the underbrush), as they went through the trees in the pitch dark.  
     Suddenly the red light shone out very bright through the tree-trunks not far ahead. “Now it is the burglar’s turn,” they said, meaning Belly-donna. “You must go on and find out all about that light, and what it is for, and if all is perfectly safe and canny,” said More-in to the hobbit. “Now waddle off, and come back as quick as you possibly can,” she added, eyeing Belly-donna’s massive girth. “If you can’t come back, hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like a screech-owl and we will do what we can.”  
     Off Belly-donna had to go, before she could explain that she could not hoot even once like any kind of owl. With her bust, of course she knew about Hooters, but not those kind. But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, much more quietly than their huge bellies would suggest. They take a pride in it, and Belly-donna had sniffed more than once at what she called “all this dwarvish racket,” as they went along, though I don’t suppose your or I would notice anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Belly-donna walking primly towards the red light, I don’t suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, she got right up to the fire--for fire it was, without disturbing anyone. And this is what she saw. Three very large females sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and greedily licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs. But they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Belly-donna, in spite of her sheltered life, could see that: from the great heavy faces of them, and their size, and the shape and size of their behinds, and their massively, but oddly, proportioned bosoms (even larger for their size than Lardass’s but quite uneven), not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.  
     “Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don’t look like mutton again tomorrer,” said one of the trolls.  
     “Never a blinking bit of manflesh have we had for long enough,” said a second. “What the ‘ell Wilma was a-thinkin’ of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me-- and the drink runnin’ short, what’s more,” she said, jogging the elbow of Wilma, who was taking a pull at her jug.  
     Wilma choked. “Shut yer mouth, Tammy!” she said as soon as she could. “Yer can’t expect folk to stop here for ever just to be ravished and et by you and Bertha. You’ve et, and fucked, a village and a half each since we come down from the mountains. How much more d’yer want? And time’s been up our way, when yer’d have said ‘thank yer Wilma’ for a nice bit o’ fat valley mutton like what this is.” She took a big bite off a sheep’s leg she was toasting, and wiped her lips on her sleeve.  
     Yes, I am afraid trolls do behave like that, even those with properly engorged bellies and bosoms. After hearing all this Belly-donna ought to have done something at once. Either she should have gone back quietly and warned her friends that there were three fair-sized trolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likely to try toasted dwarf, or even pony, for a change; or else she should have done a bit of good quick burgling. A really first-class and legendary burglar would at this point have picked the trolls’ pockets; it is nearly always worthwhile if you can manage it; pinched the very mutton off the spit, purloined the beer, and walked off without their noticing her. Others, more practical but with less professional pride, would perhaps have stuck a dagger into each of them before they observed it. Then the night could have been spent cheerily, over-stuffing oneself with mutton and beer.  
     Belly-donna knew it. She had read a good many things, over meals, that she had never seen or done. She was very much alarmed, as well as jealous; she wished herself a hundred miles away with just that much mutton and beer, but just for herself-- and yet somehow she could not go straight back to More-in and Company empty-handed. So she stood and hesitated in the shadows. Of the various burglarious proceedings she had heard of, picking the trolls’ pocket seemed the least difficult, so at last she crept behind a tree just behind Wilma.  
     Bertha and Tammy went off to the barrel. Wilma was having another drink. Then Belly-donna plucked up courage and put her pudgy hand in Wilma’s enormous pocket. There was a purse in it, as big as a bag to Belly-donna. “Ha!” she thought, warming to her new work as she lifted it carefully out, “this is a beginning!”  
     It was! Trolls’ purses are the mischief, and this was no exception. “ ‘Ere, ‘oo are you?” it squeaked, as it left the pocket; and Wilma turned round at once and grabbed Belly-donna by the neck, before she could duck behind the tree.  
     “Blimey, Bertha, look what I’ve copped!” said Wilma.  
     “What is it?” said the others coming up.  
     “Lumme, if I knows! What are yer?”  
     “Belly-donna Big’uns, a bur-a hobbit,” said poor Belly-donna, shaking all over, jiggling her bosom and wobbling her belly, and wondering how to make owl-noises before they throttled her.  
     “A burrahobbit?” said they a bit startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, and mighty suspicious about anything new to them.  
     “What’s a burrahobbit got to do with my pocket, anyways?” said Wilma.  
     “And can yer cook ‘em?” said Tammy.  
     “Course yer can. Yer can cook anyfing,” said Bertha. “I wanna know, can yer fuck ‘er?”  
     “She wouldn’t make above a mouthful, either way” said Wilma, who had already had a fine supper, and wouldn’t bother the effort for anything less than another full one, “not when she was skinned and boned.”  
     “We could stuff ‘er first,” said Bertha.  
     “That we could,” said Tammy, and her leer would make Belly-donna wonder which stuffing she meant. Likely both ways. “Get a rope, an’ tie ‘er down.”  
     While Wilma fetched a rope and tied Belly-donna onto a frame, with her arms and legs stretched tight, holding her still, Bertha and Tammy stripped down. Belly-donna was, in spite of her predicament, quite impressed with Tammy’s breasts; even relative to her large size, they were truly immense; much larger than even Lardass’s. In fact, it seemed that they were slowly, but visibly expanding before her eyes. As she watched, Tammy’s nipples hardened and began to leak milk. Bertha noticed Tammy’s state, and, uncharacteristically, let her go first with their captive.  
     Tammy leaned right down over Belly-donna, pulled her jaw wide, and shoved one of her breasts right into her mouth. “Ooo,” she sighed, “that’s nice, that is. Need some milkin’ jest now.” Instinctively, Belly-donna started to suckle, drawing an immediate stream of thick rich milk from Tammy’s swollen breast. The sheer volume of gushing milk puffed out her cheeks, and she struggled to swallow, never one to waste incoming food, no matter the situation. She barely noticed her pants being ripped off (by Wilma as it happened), but she very much noticed a troll’s thick fingers suddenly and quickly entering her pussy. She gasped, and her intake of breath pulled in even more milk from Tammy’s leaking tit. Wilma kept pistoning her massive finger in and out of Belly-donna as the hobbit desperately sucked down the still-flowing milk, guzzling it faster than ever. Soon, Tammy seemed to feel relief, and switched to the other breast, shoving it right into Belly-donna’s mouth, even deeper than the other. Poor Ms. Big’uns couldn’t but suck desperately and swallow every drop gushing into her. Even tied tight, she writhed around Wilma’s big finger. Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t even slow her suckling, as Wilma squeezed a second huge finger inside, stretching Belly-donna wider than she ever remembered being stretched. The added pressure and friction immediately sent her over the edge into orgasm. She screamed around the huge nipple still choking her, and Tammy shuddered with pleasure as the vibrations rippled through her body.  
     Finally, Tammy was relieved of her bloated load of milk, and she backed off. Now Bertha just dropped her pussy right on Belly-donna’s face, growling, “eat me out, ye little whore.” Belly-donna had barely enough time to gasp a large breath before her entire face was engulfed by Bertha’s massive pussy. Digging her tongue deep, the little hobbit drove for Bertha’s clit. Finding it, she worked her head inside Bertha’s pussy lips and actually nibbled on it. She couldn’t hear anything, but she felt the shudders as Bertha came. Immediately, gallons of her juice gushed at Belly-donna and she desperately gulped, trying to swallow it all before it drowned her.  
     All the while, Wilmas fingers, three of them now, stretched Belly-donna wide and pistoned in and out, faster and faster, hitting her with one massive orgasm after another, one blending into the next, until Belly-donna was mindlessly eating out and cumming.  
     Finally, after at least three more equally massive orgasms, Bertha fell to the side off of Belly-donna’s face, and lay there panting and moaning. Between Tammy’s milk and Bertha’s juices, our hobbit’s belly was already stuffed full and rising in a dome above her tied body.  
     Bertha staggered to her feet, and got a big bag while Tammy got hold of the extra mutton, pulled it off the bones and mashed it up and mixed it with the beer to make a paste. Bertha put the paste into her bag, and Wilma squeezed Belly-donna’s cheeks to force her mouth open. Bertha shoved a tube at the end of the bag into Belly-donna’s mouth and Tammy tied her mouth shut around the tube.  
     Belly-donna gazed helplessly at the bag, bigger than her whole body and bulging to its limits with meat paste.  
Bertha, still holding the end of the bag, started to squeeze it tight, forcing the paste into Belly-donna’s mouth. Her cheeks inflated, blowing up full of the paste as she tried to keep it in her mouth a bit, to sample the taste. But Bertha just squeezed harder, and soon the paste forced its way down her throat, blowing up her already hugely stuffed belly. Steadily, Bertha kept squeezing. In return, Belly-donna bloated hugely. The pressure built inside her as more and more of the paste was thrust into her. Quickly, Belly-donna’s stomach inflated round as a balloon with the unending flood of paste from the trolls’ bag.  
     Soon, her belly was puffed out to three times its normal gigantic girth, and still bloating further. Belly-donna started moaning around the deluge, both from the pressure and pain of her expanding belly, and from the surprising pleasure the pressure caused as it pushed on her nether regions. Larger and larger she grew, and still the bag was only half-empty. Determined, the trolls kept squeezing, sending more paste down her throat. Finally, no more could pack into her overstuffed belly and it started to back up her throat. Her neck visibly bulged as the paste packed in, and her cheeks swelled even larger as the paste filled them up too. Even more than the dwarves’ feeding last night, Belly-donna was packed to her absolute capacity, and beyond, straining to hold together. And Bertha kept squeezing the paste into her mouth.  
     An ominous creaking began, and Belly-donna whimpered around the still-flowing paste. As Belly-donna’s stomach, indeed her whole body, swelled closer and closer to popping, up came Balloon.  
The dwarves had heard noises from a distance, and after waiting for some time for Belly-donna to come back, or to hoot like an owl, they started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. No sooner did Tammy see Balloon come into the light then she gave an awful screech. Trolls simply detest the sight of dwarves (mobile and unstuffed). Bertha and Wilma stopped stuffing Belly-donna immediately, and “more rope, Tammy, quick!” they said; before Balloon, who was wondering what all this commotion was, knew what was happening, she was tied down next to Belly-donna and being stuffed the same way.  
     “There’s more to come yet,” said Tammy, “or I’m mighty mistook. No more burra-hobbits, but lots of these here dwarves. That’s about the shape of it!”  
     “I reckon you’re right,” said Bertha, “and we can stuff ‘em all just like these.”  
     And so they did. With ropes ready, they waited in the shadows. As each dwarf came up and looked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, and the gnawed mutton in surprise, swoop! she was down and tied, and stuffed by the tube, until the next came.  
     Soon all thirteen dwarves were tied next to Belly-donna, and one by one, the trolls filled them all up to nearly her size. Gradually, all the dwarves’ bellies were bloated fuller and fuller until they were all ready to explode.  
     It was just then that Lardass came back. But no one saw her. The trolls were deciding whether their captives could take any more stuffing; and chose to try it on one to see. If that one popped, they’d know they were filled to capacity, and just roast the rest.  
     “Which one do we try?” said a voice. Tammy though it was Wilma’s.  
     “The first one; she’s furthest along,” she said.  
     Bertha, still holding the bag, now refilled, went to Belly-donna, shoved the end in her mouth, and squeezed yet more paste into her. Her stomach pulsed bigger with each squeeze, inching closer to its absolute limit.  
     “Naw, let ‘er alone. She done us good jest now. What about the blue one? She’s huge,” said a voice like Wilma's.  
     “A'ight, then,” said Bertha, and crossed to Bom-berry, and blew her belly up even larger. Bom-berry moaned in pain around the spurts of paste surging into her overfilled belly.  
     “Why'd yet go'n do 'er for!” said Wilma.  
     “ 'Cause yer said too!” said Bertha.  
     “Never I did, Tammy said it," said Wilma.  
     "Why 'uld I say that? I want the first one."  
     "Shut yer mouth! Yer did!" said Wilma.  
     "Never I did! Shut yer own!" said Tammy.  
     “Fine, then! Do ‘er then,” grumbled Wilma.  
     Bertha returned to Belly-donna and re-inserted the bag’s tip and gave one massive squeeze that instantly doubled her cheek’s span, pushed her throat wider and even expanded her belly more. Belly-donna whimpered now, her body straining to hold in all the enormous load.  
     Fascinated at Belly-donna’s predicament, Wilma said, “lookit ‘er. She gonna pop, or what?”  
     “Bet she dun’t,” said a voice like Bertha’s.  
     “Bet she does,” said Tammy.  
     “She’s gotta,” said Bertha.  
     Wilma said, “then why’d you say she wouldn’t?”  
     “I din’t! You said that!”  
     Wilma swung at Bertha’s face, and the two got into a gorgeous tussle. As is often the case with trolls, the violence sparked lust and before long, Wilma had locked their lips on Bertha’s nipples, and both were groping between each other’s legs. Tammy, not to be left out, and quite horny from the spectacle (and from stuffing the poor hobbit and dwarves, too), planted herself on top of Bertha’s face, pushing her pussy down hard, and getting Bertha’s tongue deep.  
Just as the three trolls hit a screaming orgasm, a voice that sounded like Wilma’s said, “dawn take you all, and be done to you!” But it wasn’t. For just at that moment the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty rumble in the trolls’ bellies. Tammy fell off Bertha onto her side, Wilma rolled onto her back; and Tammy lay there moaning in residual pleasure and growing pain. All three trolls groaned and their hands flew to their midsections, which were already starting to inflate. As the sunlight grew brighter, the trolls’ bellies grew faster, loudly gurgling and sloshing as they swelled. Writing in pain, the trolls helplessly expanded. The steady ballooning only stopped a moment when they grew taut inside their shirts. But the steady ballooning soon started to burst the ill-sewn seams, and soon buttons flew everywhere as the three trolls expanded far larger (relative to their size) than even Belly-donna was. By the time the full sun was over the horizon, the three trolls exploded in showers of gore; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or the sunlight will heat up their innards, inflating them like fattened water balloons, until the pop. That is what happened to Bertha and Tammy and Wilma.  
     “Excellent!” said Lardass, as she stepped from behind a tree, and went to untie Belly-donna, who was panting desperately around the massive load totally filling every tiny space inside her. The bag, still stuck in her mouth, wasn’t helping matters any; and Lardass quickly pulled it out. Belly-donna still being Belly-donna, didn’t want any of the massive load to leave her mouth, so she clamped her lips shut tight until she could digest enough to swallow the mouthful. But, even through the food-haze, she understood; it was the wizard’s voice that had kept the trolls bickering and quarrelling (and stuffing her bigger and bigger), until the light came and made an end of them.  
     Seeing Belly-donna would be immobile and useless until she had digested enough to move again, Lardass went to the dwarves and cut them loose, one by one. They were nearly suffocated by their overstuffing, and very annoyed; they had not at all enjoyed lying there, immobile and stuffed listening to the trolls making plans for further stuffing and roasting them, and popping one to see if they were ready. They had to wait for Belly-donna to recover (and for their own recovery) to hear her account of what had happened to her twice over, before they were satisfied.  
     “Silly time to go practicing pinching and pocket-picking,” said Bom-berry, “when what we wanted was fire and food!”  
     “And that’s what you got in any case,” said Lardass. “The food, at any rate. It’ll take the day and more to digest all that, especially for you and Ms. Big’uns.”  
     Much later that day, when at least a few of the dwarves were (barely) mobile again, they searched about, and soon found the marks of trolls’ stony boots going away through the trees. They followed the tracks up the hill, until hidden by the bushes they came on a big door of stone leading to a cave. But they could not open it, not though they all pushed while Lardass tried various incantations.  
     “Would this be any good?” asked Belly-donna, finally mobile again, barely, and approaching in a slow laborious waddle. “I found it on the ground where the trolls fucked me.” She held out a largish key, though no doubt Wilma had thought it very small and secret. It must have fallen out of her pocket, very luckily, before she was turned to stone.  
     “Why on earth didn’t you mention it before?” they cried.  
     “I was stuffed past my limits; I could barely breathe, let alone talk,” said Belly-donna wistfully.  
     Lardass grabbed it and fitted it into the key-hole. Then the stone door swung back with one big push, and they all went inside. There were bones on the floor, and a stale smell in the air; but there was a good deal of food jumbled carelessly on shelves and on the ground, among an untidy litter of plunder, of all sorts, from brass buttons to pots full of gold coins standing in a corner. There was lots of other supplies, too, hanging on the walls -- too small for trolls, I am afraid they belonged to victims-- and among them were several kitchen tools of various makes, shapes, and sizes. Two caught their eyes particularly, because of their beautiful design and well-used sheen. Lardass and More-in each took one of these; and Belly-donna took a small frying-pan, a saucier really, with a leather carrying case.  
     “These look like good cookware,” said the wizard, looking at them curiously. “They were not made by any troll, nor by any smith among men in these parts and days; but when we can read the runes on them, we shall know more about them.”  
     “Let’s get outside, and get something to eat!” said Feedee, missing, like Belly-donna, the pressure of being so stuffed beyond capacity. So they carried out the pots of coins, and as much food as they could carry, also several barrels of ale. By that time, they felt like breakfast, and being dwarves (and a hobbit) they did not turn their noses up at any kind of food. They stuffed themselves well and truly, nearly reaching the massive girth they had been forced up to by the troll’s tube-feeding. After that, they lazed around, too stuffed to bother moving, digesting happily. Much later they brought up their ponies, and carried away the gold, and buried them secretly not far from the track by the river, putting a great many spells over them, just in case they ever had the chance to come back and recover them. When that was done, they ate a little bit more, just to top off their bellies, packed up all the food they could carry, and set off again on the path towards the East.  
     “Where did you go to, if I may ask?” said More-in to Lardass as they rode along.  
     “To look ahead,” said she.  
     “And what brought you back in the nick of time?”  
     “Looking behind,” said she.  
     “Exactly!” said More-in, “but could you be more plain?”  
     “I went on to spy out our road. It will soon become dangerous and difficult. Also I was anxious about replenishing our stock of provisions. I had not gone very far, however, when I met a couple of friends of mine from Sit-and-fill.”  
     “Where’s that?” asked Belly-donna, liking the sound of the name.  
     “Don’t interrupt!” said Lardass. “You will get there in a few days now, if we’re lucky, and find out all about it. As I was saying I met two of Enedrond’s people. They were hurrying along for fear of the trolls. It was they who told me that three of them had come down from the mountains and settled in the woods not far from the road; they had frightened everyone away from the district, and they waylaid strangers.  
     “I immediately had a feeling that I was wanted back. After a large meal with them,” she said, rubbing her own stuffed belly absently, “and a quickie, looking back I saw a fire in the distance and made for it. So now you know. Please be more careful next time, or we shall never get anywhere!”  
     “Thank you!” said More-in.


	3. A Long Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna and the dwarves arrive at Sit-and-Fill, the valley of the elves. They party, feast, and even learn a few things.

     They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved; nor the next day nor the day after. They had begun to feel that danger was not far away on either side. They camped under the stars, and they had much to eat every time they stopped, though they stopped little, anxious to get on, pulling food from what they had got from the trolls, to eat even on the ride. One morning they forded a river at a wide shallow place full of the noise of stones and foam. The far bank was steep and slippery. When they got to the top of it, leading their ponies, they saw that the great mountains had marched down very near to them. Already they seemed only a day’s easy journey from the feet of the nearest. Dark and drear it looked, though there were patches of sunlight on its brown sides, and behind its shoulders the tips of snow-peaks gleamed.  
     “Is that The Mountain?” asked Belly-donna in a food-blurred voice, looking at it with round eyes. She had never seen a thing that looked so big before, not even her own belly after her largest feeding ever.  
     “Of course not!” said Balloon. “That is only the beginning of the Meaty Mountains, and we have to get through, or over, or under those somehow, before we can come into the Wilderland beyond. And it is a deal of a way even from the other side of them to the Lonely Mountain in the East where Scarf-down lies on our comestibles.”  
     “O!” said Belly-donna, and just at that moment she felt more scared than she remembered feeling before. She was thinking once again of her comfortable chair before the table in her favorite dining-room in her hobbit-hole, and of the kettle singing and unbelieveable amounts of food steaming before her, ready for her to stuff herself. Not for the last time!  
     Now Lardass led the way and they followed her titanic rear-end, bouncing and jiggling on her horse’s back. “We must not miss the road, or we shall be done for,” she said. “We’ll want even more food, for one thing, and rest in reasonable safety-- also it is very necessary to tackle the Meaty Mountains by the proper path, or else you will get lost in them, and have to come back and starts at the beginning again (if you ever get back at all).”  
     They asked her where she was making for, and she answered: “You are come to the very edge of the Wild, as some of you may know. Hidden somewhere ahead of us is the fair valley of Sit-and-fill where Enedrond lives in the Last Stuffing House. I sent a message by my friends, and we are expected.”  
     That sounded nice and comforting, but they had not got there yet, and it was not so easy as it sounds to find the Last Stuffing House west of the Mountains. There seemed to be no trees and no valleys and no hills to break the ground in front of them, only one vast slope going slowly up and up to meet the feet of the nearest mountain, a wide land the color of heather and crumbling rock, with patches and slashes of grass-green and moss-green showing where water might be.  
     Morning passed, and they stopped for a huge breakfast; afternoon came, and with it enormous lunch, followed quickly by a large-sized tea; but in all the silent waste there was no sign of any dwelling. They were already stuffed and still growing , and slowing down their pace, and now they saw that the house might be hidden almost anywhere between them and the mountains. They came on unexpected valleys, narrow with deep sides, that opened suddenly at their feet, and they looked down surprised to see trees below them and running water at the bottom. There were gullies that they could almost leap over; but very deep with waterfalls in them. There were dark ravines that one could neither jump nor climb into. There were bogs, some of them green pleasant places to look at with flowers growing bright and tall; but a pony that walked there with a passenger as heavy as Ms. Big’uns or the dwarves on its back would never have come out again.  
     It was indeed a much wider land from the ford to the mountains than ever you would have guessed. Belly-donna was astonished, and needed an extra meal to get over it. The only path was marked with white stones like marshmallows, some of which were small, and others were half-covered with moss or heather. Altogether it was a very slow business following the track, even guided by Lardass, who seemed to know her way about pretty well.  
     Her head wagged this was and that, and her bosom jiggled all around, as she looked for the stones, and they followed her massive bottom, but they seemed no nearer to the end of their search when the day began to fail. Tea-time had long gone by, and they took a good long time to eat a huge supper (to keep up their strength for their search, of course), but it seemed that they would never find their way. There were moths fluttering about, and the light became very dim, for the moon had not risen. Belly-donna’s pony began to stumble over roots and stones, over-burdened by her massive weight. They came to the edge of a steep fall in the ground so suddenly that Lardass’s horse nearly slipped down the slope.  
     “Here it is at last!” she called, and the others gathered round her and looked over the edge. They saw a valley far below. They could hear the voice of hurrying water in a rocky bed at the bottom; the scent of food was in the air; and there was a light on the valley-side across the water. Belly-donna never forgot the way they wobbled and slipped in the dusk down the steep zig-zag path into the secret valley of Sit-and-fill. The air grew warmer as they got lower, and the smell of pralines made her hungry, so that every now and then her stomach rumbled and startled her horse. Their spirits rose as they went down and down. The trees changed to beech and oak, and the sweet smells grew stronger, giving a comfortable feeling in the twilight. The last green had almost faded out of the grass, when they came at length to an open glade not far above the banks of the stream.  
     “Hmm! It smells like a bake shop!” thought Belly-donna, “and elves!” she added as an afterthought, and she looked up at the stars. They were burning bright and blue. Just then there came a burst of song like laughter in the trees:

> _O! What are you doing?_  
>  _And where are you going?_  
>  _The beer is a-brewing!_  
>  _Your bellies need growing!_  
>  _O! Tra-la-la-lally_  
>  _here down in the valley!_
> 
> _O! What are you seeking,_  
>  _And where are you making?_  
>  _Start right in on eating!_  
>  _The bannocks are baking!_  
>  _O! Tril-lil-lil-lolly_  
>  _the valley is jolly,_  
>  _ha! ha!_
> 
> _O! Where are you going_  
>  _With breast-flesh a-jiggling?_  
>  _No knowing, no knowing_  
>  _What brings Ms. Big’uns_  
>  _And Balloon and D’widen_  
>  _down into the valley_  
>  _in June_  
>  _ha! ha!_
> 
> _O! Will you be staying,_  
>  _Or will you be flying?_  
>  _Your bellies are weighing!_  
>  _The daylight is dying!_  
>  _To fly would be folly,_  
>  _But sex would be jolly_  
>  _And screw with a sprite_  
>  _Till the end of the night_  
>  _in our beds_  
>  _ha! ha!_

     So they laughed and sang in the trees; and pretty fair nonsense I daresay you think it. Not that they would care; they would only laugh all the more if you told them so. They were elves of course. Soon Belly-donna caught glimpses of them as the darkness deepened, even more bloated and fatter than she herself, and far outweighing the dwarves. She loved elves, though she seldom met them; but she was a little frightened of them too. Dwarves don’t get on well with them. Even decent enough dwarves like More-in and her friends feel competitive towards their capacity for eating, and get annoyed with them. For some elves tease them and laugh at them, and most of all at their “meager” abilities to eat.  
     “Well, well!” said a voice. “Just look! Belly-donna the hobbit on a pony, my dear! Isn’t it delicious!  
     “Most astonishing wonderful!”  
     Then off they went into another song as ridiculous as the one I have written down in full. At last one, a wide young girl, came out from the trees and bowed to Lardass and to More-in.  
     “Welcome to the valley!” she said.  
     “Thank you!” said More-in gruffly; but Lardass was already off her horse and among the elves, talking merrily with them and swatting each others’ massive rear ends and groping each others’ hugely wide bellies and bosoms.  
     “You are a little out of your way,” said the elf; “that is, if you are making for the only path across the water and to the house beyond. We will set you right, but you had best hurry; dinner is laid, as fine and plentiful as any could with; but it won’t last long!”  
     Hungry as she was, Belly-donna wanted to hurry on. Elvish feasting is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars, not if you care for such things, although she would have liked a private word with these people who seemed to know her name and all about her, though she had never seen them before. She thought their opinion of her adventure might be interesting. Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know what is going on among the peoples of the land, as quick as beer flows, or quicker. But the dwarves, and Belly-donna, were all for supper as soon as possible, and as much as possible, and could not stay. On they all went, leading their ponies, till they were brought to a good path and so at last to the very brink of the river. It was flowing fast and noisily, as mountain-streams do of a summer evening, When sun has been all day on the snow far up above. There was only a narrow bridge of stone without a parapet, as narrow as the fat dwarves and hobbit could well walk on; and over that they had to go, slow and careful, one by one, each leading her pony by the bridle. The elves had brought lanterns to the shore, and they sang a merry song as the party went across.  
     “Go ahead and dip your tits in the foam, mother!” they cried to More-in, who was bent almost on to her hands and knees, her bust swaying below her, very close to the stream. “They are big as it is, but swelling with water will get them even bigger!”  
     “Mind Belly-donna doesn’t eat all the cakes!” they called. “She is too fat to get through key-holes yet! And she’d eat us out of house and home too!”  
     “Hush, hush! Good people! and good night!” Said Lardass, who came last. “Valleys have ears, and some elves are already too drunk to guard their tongues. Good night!”  
     And so at last they all came to the Last Stuffing House, and found its doors flung wide so they could fit through, and its board loaded and creaking with food.  
     Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway. They stayed long in that good house, fourteen days at least, and they spent nearly every waking moment feeding themselves (and each other) at table. Belly-donna would gladly have stopped there for ever and ever, feasting and stuffing endlessly-- even supposing a wish would have taken her right back to her hobbit-hole without trouble. Yet there is little to tell about their stay except a quick summary of their many feasts and the results on their bodies.  
     A usual elven feast can last all the day long, or longer, and often turn into an orgy, with passions inflamed by sheer gluttony. The longest feast the elves of Sit-and-fill ever recorded lasted 3 full days, and that one was while the dwarves and Ms. Big'uns were there; they ate essentially full speed without stopping for 72 hours, outpacing and outlasting even the most ardent elven feedees. But the more average meal would gradually wind down after only 14 or 15 hours.  
     And, of course, by the end of the eating, all the elves (and the dwarves and Belly-donna too) would be so bloated that they could barely move, but would often roll onto each other, and continue using their mouths and hands, but now for pleasure instead of stuffing. Pushing bellies out of the way, elves would burrow through massive folds of fat to eat each other out, savoring the spicy juices that would gush from pussy into waiting mouths. While some elves dove underneath, others would latch onto swollen breasts, suckling and licking on the nipples. Some elves even had the ability to lactate just from over-eating. These were prized as partners, since having sex and suckling on their tits would inflate their partners even more.  
     At any of these feasts, our Belly-donna (and the dwarves) sat down to table and began to stuff themselves, and did not stop, or even slow noticeably, for the entire feast, often using both hands, alternating so that their mouths were never empty, and they blew up like fat-filled balloons, and indeed nearly as fast. Sometimes, one or two dwarves would be the focus, and the others would all stuff them nonstop, blowing them up even faster, while the eaters would pleasure themselves, until they were too fat to reach around their bellies, or their arms were engulfed by their swelling bodies; then the other dwarves would take over that, too pleauring their companions while the rest keep feeding them.  
     They often stopped only when the food ran out and the servers grew too exhausted. The dwarves felt they needed to prove their capacity and speed; Belly-donna just loved to eat herself into a stupor. No matter the reason, the elves of Sit-and-fill were quite impressed with Belly-donna's abilities at stuffing, as well as the dwarves'.  
     By the end of any of their feasts, Belly-donna, and the dwarves, would always be far too stuffed to move on their own. Oft-times, it would take three or four elven stewards to carry them to their beds to sleep and digest, to prepare for tomorrow's all-day meal. (Bom-berry routinely needed five or six.) During the three-day feeding, all fourteen got so bloated that their bellies ballooned out far enough to cover their legs to the knees (Bom-berry and Belly-donna, of course, went farther than that; halfway down their shins.)  
     While the elves would avoid the dwarves for sex, the dwarves could, and did, entertain themselves, writhing in a single mass orgy, digging fingers inside each other’s pussies and latching mouths onto one another’s tits, suckling and licking all over, even kissing and licking each other’s swollen tight bellies. They happily invited Belly-donna to join them, and she happily did, quickly becoming the center of the whole mass of entwined bodies, being the biggest one, who could be licked, sucked on, and stimulated by all thirteen dwarves at once on various parts of her gigantic bloated body. One dwarf (a different one each time) would sit on Belly-donna’s face, receiving a skilled pussy-eating. Two would suckle at Belly-donna’s tits, licking and nibbling all over them, especially the erect nipples. Another would burrow under her enormous belly, finding her pussy and licking all over it, savoring her luscious juices. Two more would sit on her hands, letting her finger them both. Three more, one on top and one to either side, would fondle, lick, and caress her bulging belly, massaging it roughly, and drawing even more pleasure for Belly-donna. Another two would sit on her feet, pushing the bloated swollen toes into their own pussies, pistoning on them until they gushed all over her feet. The last two dwarves would move around, fingering and rubbing and suckling those others who were servicing Belly-donna, so they could have their own pleasure. Before very long, each and every time, all fourteen of them would have many repeated screaming orgasms, cumming all over everyone, and ending with the lot drenched and wilted in a huge fat tangle of fleshy limbs.

     The master of the house was an elf-friend-- one of those people whose fathers came in to the strange inflation stories before the beginning of History, the eating-contests of the evil goblins and the elves and the first men in the North. In those days of our tale there were still some people who had both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Enedrond the mistress of the house was their chief. She was as bloated and wide in body as an elf-lady, had belly-capacity of a warrior, as buxom as a wizard, as well-fed as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer; she would feed anyone who asked, and as much as they could want (and sometimes more). She comes into many tales, feeding and being fed incredibly, but her part in the story of Belly-donna’s great adventure is only a small one, though important, as you will see, if we ever get to the end of it. Her house was perfect, whether you liked stuffing yourself with food, or inflating with air, or with water, or being turned into a blueberry, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Skinny things did not come into that valley; or if they did, they did not stay that way for long.  
     I wish I had time to tell you more of the feasts and one or two of the inflations that they had in that house. All of them, the ponies as well, grew fat and bloated in a few days there. And they stayed more than a few days, if you remember. Their clothes were replaced (to fit their new massive figures), and their bruises mended, as well as their tempers and their hopes. Their bags were filled with food and provisions light to carry but enough to keep them stuffed and fattened over the mountain passes. Their plans were improved with the best advice, over the most food. So the time came to midsummer eve, and they were to go on again with the early sun of a midsummer morning, after an all-night going-away feast.  
     Enedrond knew all about cookware of every kind (and runes too). That day she looked at the cookware they had brought from the trolls’ lair, and she said: “these are not troll-make. They are old cookware, very old indeed, of the High Elves of the West, my kin. They were made in Gondolin for the Great Feasts. They must have come from a dragon’s hoard or goblin plunder, for dragons and goblins ate up all that city many ages ago. This, More-in, the runes name Aescrist, the Food-Cleaver in the ancient tongue of Gondolin; it was famous cutlery, which could carve meat instantly, and could even add to the caloric content of the food. This, Lardass, was Mereth-hir, Master of Feasts, the cook-pan that the master-chef of Gondolin once cooked with. Keep them well!”  
     “Whence did the trolls get them, I wonder?” said More-in looking at her carving knife with new interest.  
     “I could not say,” said Enedrond, “but one may guess that your trolls had plundered other plunderers, or come on the remnants of old feasting-parties in some hold in the mountains of the North. I have heard that there are still forgotten treasures of this nature to be found in the deserted kitchens of the the mines of Moria, since the dwarf and goblin war.”  
     More-in pondered these words. “I will keep this cutlery in honor,” she said. “May it soon carve, and enhance, food once again!”  
     “A wish that is likely to be granted soon enough, in your gluttonous and capable hands!” said Enedrond. “But show me now your map!” She took it and gazed long at it, and she shook her head; for if she did not altogether approve of dwarves and their eating ability, substandard according to elves, she hated dragons and their cruel wickedness, and she grieved to remember the consumption of the town of Dale and its merry fat folk. She was munching on a late night snack as she looked over the map, and some bites of it fell on the map. “What is this?” she said. “There are grease-letters here, beside the plain runes which say ‘five feet high the door and three may walk abreast.’ ”  
     “What are grease-letters?” asked the hobbit full of excitement. She loved maps, as I have told you before; and she also liked greasy foods and everything to do with them.  
     “Grease-letters are rune letters, but you cannot see them,” said Enedrond, “not unless you are eating while you read. They can only be seen when grease falls on them, and what is more, with the more cunning sort, it must be grease of the same food and cooking temperature as what was used when they were written. The dwarves invented them, by accident, eating while writing messages, as your friends could tell you. These must have been written while eating a medium-rare, chicken-fried steak mixed with french fried potatoes.”  
     “What do they say?” asked Lardass and More-in together, a bit vexed perhaps that even Enedrond should have found this out first, though really there had not been a chance before, as they had not eaten over the map, and there would not have been another until goodness knows when; they kept the map stowed away during their meals.  
     “Stand by the grey stone when the thrush gorges,” read Enedrond, “and the setting sun with the last light of Diner’s Day will shine upon the key-hole.”  
     “Diner, Diner!” said More-in. “She was the mother of the mothers of the eldest race of Dwarves, the Large-bellies, and my first ancestor. I am her heir.”  
     “Then what is Diner’s Day?” asked Enedrond.  
     The first day of the dwarves’ New Year,” said More-in, “is as all should know, the first day of the last moon of Autumn on the threshold of winter. We still call it Diner’s Day when the last moon of Autumn and the sun are in the sky together, and we have even more massive feasts nonstop for the entire day. But this will not help us much, I fear, for it passes our skill in these days to guess when such a time will come, beforehand. We see it when it happens, and cook madly to prepare the feastings.”  
     “That remains to be seen,” said Lardass. “Is there any more writing?”  
     “None to be seen by this grease,” said Enedrond, and quietly regretting that with the dwarves’ departure that she wouldn’t be able to feast on one grease-dripping dish after another to see if other grease-letters would appear. She gave the map back to More-in; and then they went down to the tables to see the elves feed and stuff one another upon the midsummer’s eve.  
     At this parting feast, Blogger wanted a good video to put on-line (and to impress the elves at the same time), so she pulled out one of Bom-berry’s “special” berries and tossed to her. Bom-berry instantly caught it in her mouth, and swallowed it. As she registered the taste, she grinned widely, and the rest of the dwarves (who had seen the berry fly right in Bom-berry’s mouth) cheered. In moments, Bom-berry’s blue complexion darkened to violet, and her belly, already bloated from several hours’ eating, started to inflate. The elves gaped, and one said, “she’s blowing up like a balloon!”  
     Balloon *humph*ed. “No she’s not; that’s my kink. That’s not air in her; it’s juice.”  
     The elves gaped all the more, watching the now-blueberry-colored dwarf inflate steadily, stretching her clothes as the berry produced impossible amounts of juice, filling her up. Soon, her clothes popped off, snapping seams as she blew up, revealing more and more her deep violet skin. Bigger and bigger she inflated, now resembling nothing so much as the berry of her name, with only hers equally ballooning breasts, and still she grew. The sheer volume of juice filling her up began to turn her body into a huge sphere, engulfing her arms and legs quickly in her ever-expanding berry body, leaving only hollows in her round form where they had been. This seemed a specially potent berry, as her body kept expanding wider and wider, beginning even to envelop her head, and creating so much juice inside her that the weight of it crushed the bench Bom-berry sat on, dropping her to the ground and sending her liquid-filled body jiggling in waves.  
     Larger and rounder, Bom-berry swelled, until she was really a gigantic berry, with only the dimples to show where her limbs had been buried inside her, and her head hidden to her eyes, peering over her puffed body’s top. All that remained of a dwarven figure were her breasts, billowed out to immeasurable size with their own juice filling. They were under such pressure that her nipples steadily leaked juice, running down her violet skin in streams.  
     One of the elves, so enamored of Bom-berry’s swollen body, slowly approached her and gently lapped up the juice streaming Bom-berry’s bloated, leaking nipple. As soon as the first drop hit her tongue, she moaned with delight at the indescribable taste, and locked her lips around the erect nipple and suckled in earnest. A second elf, just as eager for new delicacies to taste, joined the first, wrapping her lips around Bom-berry’s other engorged nipple.  
     The two elves suckled at Bom-berry, swallowing the delicious juice she leaked. Quickly, the elves’ sucking went faster, as the flow increased. Soon enough, the elves desperately gulped Bom-berry’s juice, not wanting to lose the tiniest drop, but nearly overwhelmed by the deluge pouring out of her nipples.  
     The flow continued, even sped further, and the two elves’ skin began to darken. As they kept guzzling, first their pert noses turned blue, the color flowing out along their skin, even their hair becoming the color of rich blueberries.  
     Still, the two elves drank from Bom-berry’s gushing breasts, and their bellies began to swell. As the juice kept flooding them, the elves’ bellies inflated faster and faster. Grabbing on to Bom-berry’s breasts with both hands, desperate to keep the luscious juice flowing into them, the elves sucked even harder. With new influx, the elves blew up faster than ever, their bellies, indeed their whole bodies, billowing ever larger, starting to engulf their limbs, forcing them to let go of Bom-berry’s breasts. They kept their mouths locked tight on her nipples, guzzling the still-gushing juice.  
     As they kept suckling, another elf burrowed under Bom-berry’s round bloated body to find her pussy, also leaking juice, just as the elf had hoped. Happily, she jammed her tongue deep into the flow, lapping it up eagerly. Bom-berry moaned in pleasure, stimulated at three different spots, each one gushing blueberry juice.  
     The third elf, underneath Bom-berry, quickly became drenched when the flow increased as Bom-berry started cumming. She desperately locked her lips around Bom-berry’s open pussy, and guzzled the juice as fast as it came out. Immediately, she too started to turn blue and began to swell.  
     Bigger and fuller the three elves inflated, growing huge, round, and tight. Their blueberry bodies finally expanded enough to completely envelop their arms and legs, leaving only hollows like Bom-berry. Finally, the elves’ bodies shifted and rolled away from Bom-berry, pulling their mouths away from the delicious juice. The elves whimpered, craving more, but they were so bloated and filled that their spherical bodies were completely immobile, helpless as several of the dwarves rolled her away.  
     The other elves, still stunned by Bom-berry’s performance, asked the rest of the dwarves how she achieved it. “No idea, really,” said More-in. “She gets those berries from somewhere. We’ve never been able to find out where. She only has a few at a time, and she says it takes months to get more, so she tries to avoid using them too often, even though she loves how they bloat her into a giant blueberry; the sloshing and sheer spherical volume of herself.”  
     The next morning was a midsummer’s morning as fair and fresh as could be dreamed: blue sky and never a cloud, and the sun dancing on the water. Now they rode away, even though Bom-berry was still inflated and immobile (they needed to tie her onto a sled and have her pony tow her) and Belly-donna could barely move herself, just from the weight she’d put on from her admirable non-stop eating at Sit-and-fill’s feasts, amid songs of farewell and good speed, with their hearts ready for more adventure, and with a knowledge of the road they must follow over the Meaty Mountains to the land beyond.


	4. Over Fed and Wondrous Fat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves and hobbit enter the mountains, are captured by goblins, and have to eat their way to an escape.

     There were many paths that led up into those mountains, and many passes over them. But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; and most of the paths were infested by evil things, that stole your food, and dreadful dangers of going hungry. The dwarves and the hobbit, helped by the wise advice and plentiful supplies of Enedrond and the knowledge and memory of Lardass, took the right road to the right pass.  
     Many long meals after they had climbed out of the valley and left the Last Stuffing House miles behind, their weight was still going up and up, and so were they, in the mountains. It was a hard path and a dangerous path, a crooked way and a lonely and a long. Now they could look back over the lands they had left, laid out behind them far below. Far, far away in the West, where things were blue and faint, Belly-donna knew there lay her own country of food and massive feasts, and her little hobbit-hole. She shivered, sending enticing waves running through her fat-laden body. It was getting bitter cold up here, and the wind came shrill along the rocks. Solid masses of frozen meat, too, at times came galloping down the mountain-sides, let loose by mid-day sun upon the stores of food up high, and passed among them (which was lucky, and they grabbed them, cooked them up and ate every bit), or over their heads (which was a waste, they felt). The nights were well-stuffed and more, though they did not dare to sing or talk loud, for the echoes were uncanny, and they did not wish to share their bounty.  
     “The summer is getting on down below,” thought Belly-donna, “and haymaking is going on, and picnics. They will be harvesting and eating, and eating, and eating, before we even begin to go down the other side at this rate.” And the others were thinking equally hungry thoughts, although when they had said good-bye to Enedrond in the high hope of a midsummer morning, well-fed with breakfast, and the last night’s farewell feast still stretching their bellies, they had spoken gaily of the passage of the mountains, and of riding swiftly across the lands beyond. They had thought of coming to the secret door in the Lonely Mountain, perhaps that very next first moon of Autumn-- “and perhaps it will be Diner’s Day,” they had said. Only Lardass had shaken her head and said nothing, only stuffed her mouth full. Dwarves had not passed that way for many years, being too intent on stuffing themselves, but Lardass had, and she knew how evil and danger had grown and thriven in the Wild, since the dragons had eaten everything and driven men from the lands, and goblins had spread in secret after the battle of the Kitchens of Moria. Even the good plans of wise wizards like Lardass and of good feeders like Enedrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures over the Edge of the Wild; and Lardass was a wise enough wizard to know it.  
     She knew that something unexpected might happen, and she hardly dared to hope that they would pass without fearful adventure over those great tall mountains with lonely peaks and valleys where no chefs cooked. They did not. All was well, until one day they met a thunderstorm -- more than a thunderstorm, a thunder-battle. You know how terrific a really big thunderstorm can be down in the land and in a river-valley; especially at times when two thunderstorms meet and clash. Altogether a wonderful time to stay inside at table, and stuff yourself till you are too well-fed and bloated to give a care to storms outside, and are too packed with food to stir. More terrible still are thunder and lightning in the mountains at night, when storms come up from East and West and make war. The lightning splinters on the peaks, and rocks shiver, and great crashes split the air and go rolling and tumbling into every cave and hollow; and the darkness is filled with overwhelming noise and sudden light.  
     Belly-donna had never seen or imagined anything of the kind. They were high up in a narrow place, with a dreadful fall into a dim valley at one side of them. There they were sheltering under a hanging rock for the night, eating to calm their nerves, and she ate most of all, shaking from head to toe, and sending her belly jiggling endlessly. When she peeped out between bites, she saw that across the valley the feeding-giants were out and were cramming huge hunks of meat into each others’ mouths for a game, and chewing and swallowing them, and while one was chewing, the others would start to fondle her, rubbing her growing belly, her mountainous breasts, even slipping huge fingers deep inside the chasm between her legs; but if the chunks happened to dribble out (their mouths being stuffed too full to fit any more in), the chunks fell down into the darkness where they smashed among the trees far below, or squished into little bits with a squelch. Then came a wind and a rain, and the wind whipped the rain and the hail about in every direction, to that an overhanging rock was no protection at all. Soon they were getting drenched and their ponies were standing with their heads down and their tails between their legs, and some of them were whinnying with fright. They could hear the giants guffawing and masticating all over the mountainsides.  
     “This won’t do at all,” said More-in. “If we don’t get blown off or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up and eaten by a giant, or used by one as a dildo!”  
     “Well, if you know of anywhere better, take us there!” said Lardass, who was feeling very hungry, in spite of the massive meal, and was far from happy about the giants herself.  
     The end of their argument was that they sent Feedee and Foodie to look for a better shelter. They had very sharp eyes, and being the youngest of the dwarves by some five years they usually got theses sort of jobs (when everybody could see that it was no use sending Belly-donna). There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something (or so More-in said to the young dwarves). You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after. So it proved on this occasion.  
     Soon Feedee and Foodie came waddling back, holding on to their bellies in the wind. “We have found a dry cave,” they said, “not far round the next corner; and ponies and all could get inside.”  
     “Have you thoroughly explored it?” asked the wizard, who knew that caves up in the mountains were seldom unoccupied.  
     “Yes, yes!” they said, though everybody knew they could not have been long about it; they had come back too quick. “It isn’t all that big, and it does not go far back.”  
     That, of course, is the dangerous part about caves: you don’t know how far they go back, sometimes, or where a passage behind may lead to, or what is waiting for you inside. But now Feedee and Foodie’s news seemed good enough. So they all got up and prepared to move. The wind was howling and the thunder still growling, and they had a business getting themselves and their ponies along. Still it was not very far to go, and before long they came to a big rock standing out into the path, bulging out like their own swollen bellies. There was ample room to get the ponies through, though they themselves could just barely squeeze their bulbous stuffed bellies in. As they passed under the arch, it was good to hear the wind and the rain outside instead of all about them, and to feel safe from the giants and their feeding. But the wizard was taking no risks. She lit up her wand-- as she did that day in Belly-donna’s dining-room that seemed so long ago, if you remember-, and by its light they explored the cave from end to end, before settling down to yet another, even huger meal to calm their nerves.  
     It seemed quite a fair size, but not too large and mysterious. It had a dry floor and some comfortable nooks, to lounge about and eat in. At one end there was room for the ponies; and there they stood (mighty glad of the change) steaming, and champing in their nosebags, stuffing themselves like their riders. Gut and Glut wanted to light a fire at the door to dry their clothes, but Lardass would not hear of it. So they spread out their wet things on the floor, and laid about completely nude, feasting and eyeing each others’ exposed bellies, bosoms, and asses; then they made their blankets comfortable, and got out their after-dinner snacks and crammed them into themselves, till Lardass suggested they feed each other, to amuse themselves. They ate and ate, and stuffed and stuffed each other, and forgot about the storm, and discussed the best methods to stuff another person, and one by one, began to fondle themselves, then each other, winding up to a huge orgy. Lardass too, took part, planting her enormous breasts in the faces of two different dwarves. The two immediately locked their lips around her swollen nipples, which instantly started to absolutely gush milk, filling their mouths, then their bellies, inflating them even huger like milky water balloons. While they inflated, other dwarves dug underneath their burgeoning bellies, burrowing for their pussies, driving one, two, all five fingers inside, stretching them out and making them scream around Lardass’s gargantuan tits. The rest weren’t idle, by any means. They writhed together, corpulent limbs entwining, lips finding nipples, and pussies, and even licking over taut belly-flesh, drawing cried of ecstasy from all and sundry. Belly-donna wasn’t the center-piece this time; she took a more active part, pleasuring every dwarf she could reach, licking at every tit and pussy she could, and sitting on any dwarf’s face who lay on her back.  
     Panting in afterglow, still tangled with pudgy limbs absently caressing each other, they quietly talked about what each would do with her share of the treasure of food (when they got it, which at the moment did not seem so impossible); and so they dropped off to sleep one by one. And that was the last time that they used their ponies, packages, baggage and paraphernalia that they had brought with them.  
     It turned out a good thing that night that they had brought pudgy Belly-donna with them, after all. For somehow, she could not go to sleep for a long while; and when she did sleep, she had very exciting dreams. She dreamed that a crack in the wall at the back of the cave got bigger and bigger, and opened wider and wider, and poured vast oceans of food right down her throat, and she was billowing larger and larger on the floor of the cave, but could not call out as her mouth was continually packed to its limits. Then she dreamed that the floor of the cave was giving way under her enormous and increasing weight, and she was slipping-- beginning to fall down, down, goodness knows where to.  
     At that, she woke up with her hand between her legs bringing her to a shuddering orgasm, and found that part of her dream was true. A crack had opened up at the back of the cave, and was already a wide passage. She was just in time to see the last of the ponies’ tails disappearing into it. Of course she gave a very loud yell, as loud a yell as a hobbit can give, which is surprising for their size. (Tremendous weight, you know, can limit the breath you can take in, and that can of course limit the volume of a yell.)  
     Out jumped the goblins, big goblins, fat goblins, lots of goblins, before you could say _inflate and expand_. There were six to each dwarf, at least, and two even for Belly-donna; and they were all grabbed and carried through the crack, before you could say _stuffing and feeding_. But not Lardass. Belly-donna’s yell had done that much good. It had wakened her up wide in a splintered second, and when the goblins came to grab her, there was a terrible flash like lightning in the cave, a smell like pastries, and several of them vanished. And Lardass’s belly was that much fatter.  
     The crack closed with a snap, and Belly-donna and the dwarves were on the wrong side of it! Where was Lardass? Of that neither they nor the goblins had any idea, and the goblins did not wait to find out. It was deep, deep, dark such as only goblins that have taken to living in the heart of the mountains can see through. The passages there crossed and tangled in all directions, like spaghetti, but the goblins knew their way, as well as you do to the nearest grocery store; and the way went down and down, and it was most horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched unmercifully, checking the tenderness of the dwarves, ready to gobble them up (that is, of course, why they are called “goblins”); and Belly-donna was more unhappy even than when the troll had picked her up by her toes. She wished again and again for her nice, well-stocked hobbit-hole. Not for the last time.  
     Now there came a glimmer of a red light before them. The goblins began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flap of their huge bellies against their legs, and shaking the prisoners as well.

> _Clap! Snap! the black crack!_  
>  _Grip, grab! Pinch, nab!_  
>  _And down down to Goblin-town_  
>  _You go, my lass!_  
>  _Crunch, munch! Chug, glug!_  
>  _Feeding so fat! Knockers and rears!_  
>  _Stuff, cram, your gut, ma’am!_  
>  _Ho, ho! my lass!_  
>  _Glug, glug! Funnel chug!_  
>  _Battered and fried! Feed you up wide!_  
>  _While Goblins’ foe makes Goblins grow_  
>  _Round and round far underground_  
>  _Below, my lass!_

     It sounded truly terrifying (even in spite of the otherwise-pleasing ideas of stuffing and growing). The walls echoed to the clap, snap! and the chug, glug! and to the ugly laughter of their ho, ho! my lass! the general meaning of the song was only too plain; the goblins clearly meant to fatten them up for the goblins’ own table. More than one of the dwarves were yammering and bleating like anything, when they stumbled into a big cavern.  
     It was lit by a great red fire in the middle, and by torches along the walls, and it was full of goblins. They all laughed and stamped and clapped their hands, when the dwarves (with poor plump Belly-donna at the back and nearest to the pinching hand of testing goblins) came running in, while the goblin-drivers whooped and cracked their whips behind. The ponies were already there huddled in a corner; and there were all the baggages and packages lying broken open and being rummaged by goblins, and smelt by goblins, and eaten all up by goblins, and quarreled over by goblins.  
     I am afraid that was the last they ever saw of those excellent fat ponies, including a jolly bulging white fellow that Enedrond had lent to Lardass, since her horse was not suitable for the mountain-paths. For goblins eat ponies and horses, and everything they can get their hands on, and they are always hungry. Just now however the prisoners were thinking only of themselves. The goblins chained their hands behind their backs and linked them all together in a line and dragged them to the far end of the cavern with chubby Belly-donna tugging at the end of the row.  
     There in the shadows on a large flat stone sat a tremendously obese goblin with a huge gut and breasts, and armed goblins were standing round her carrying the toasting-forks and chef’s knives that they use. Now goblins are greedy, wicked, and hungry-bellied (even when they have just eaten). They make no beautiful things, but they make many clever ones. They can cook and prepare food as well as any but the most skilled dwarves, when they take the trouble, though they are usually untidy. Tenderizers, cutlery, pressure-cookers, and also mechanical instruments for cooking, they make very well, or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves that have to work till they tire, then are fed immensely huge and eventually eaten. It is not unlikely that they invented some of the machines that have fed the world, especially the ingenious devices for cooking large amounts of food at once, for engines and deep-frying, and eating far too much at once, not caring about nutrition always delighted them, and also not working with their own hands more than they could help; but in those days and those wild parts they had not advanced (as it is called) so far. They did not savor dwarves, especially, no more than they wanted to eat everybody and everything, and particularly the tasty things they could steal from others. But they had a special grudge against More-in’s people, because of the war which you have heard mentioned, but which does not come into this tale; and anyway goblins don’t care who they catch to eat, as long as it is done smart and secret, and the prisoners did not lose much fat in the process.  
     “Who are these delicious looking persons?” said the Great Goblin, sitting on her throne with legs wide and a goblin eating her out and two others sucking on her bloated tits, and ogling their naked bellies and bosoms.  
     “Dwarves, and this!” said one of the drivers, pulling at Belly-donna’s chain so that she fell forward onto her knees, her fat quivering with the impact.  
     “We found them sheltering on our Front Porch.”  
     “What do you mean by it?” said the Great Goblin turning to More-in. “Up to no good, I’ll warrant! Spying on the private meals of my people, I guess! Food-thieves, I shouldn’t be surprised to learn! Hoarders and friends of Elves, not unlikely! Come! What have you got to say?”  
     “More-in the dwarf at your service!” she replied-- it was merely a polite nothing. “Of the things which you suspect and imagine we had no idea at all. We sheltered from the storm in what seemed a convenient cave and unused; nothing was further from our thoughts than inconveniencing goblins in any way whatever.” That was true enough!  
     “Urn!” said the Great Goblin. “So you say! Might I ask what you were doing up in the mountains at all, and where you were coming from, and where you were going to, and why you are stark naked? In fact, I should like to know all about you. Not that it will do you much good, More-in Oakenbowl, I know too much about your folk already; but let’s have the truth, or I will stuff you up in a particularly uncomfortable method!”  
     “We were on a journey to visit our relatives, our nieces and nephews, and first, second, and third cousins, and the other descendants of our grandmothers, who live on the East side of these truly hospitable mountains, to a family reunion with a massive feast and picnic,” said More-in, not quite knowing what to say all at once in a moment, when obviously the exact truth will not do at all.  
     “She is a liar, O truly tremendous-bellied one!” said one of the drivers. “Several of our people were struck by lightning in the cave, when we invited these creatures to come below; and they are gone, eaten up most likely. Also she has not explained this!” She held out the cutlery which More-in had carried, the cutlery which came from the Trolls’ lair.  
     The Great Goblin gave a truly awful howl of jealousy when she looked at it, and threw her attendants away from her body. All her soldiers gnashed their teeth, clashed their own cutlery, and stamped. They knew the cutlery at once. It had fed hundreds of elves in its time, at the expense of goblins, when the fair elves of Gondolin ate well and never shared a bite, or out-ate them in challenges before their walls. They had called it Aescrist, Food-Cleaver, but the goblins simply called it ‘Maker.’ They wanted it and hated any one that kept it.  
     “Food-hoarders and Elf-friends!” the Great Goblin shouted. “Stuff them! Gorge them! Spread them wide on racks and fuck them till they scream for rest! Take them away to dark holes where they can’t move and stuff them like geese and then eat them!” She was in such a rage that she jumped off her seat and herself rushed at More-in with her mouth open, ready to devour her in a single gulp right there.  
     Just at that moment all the lights in the cavern blazed, and the great fire flared poof! into a tower of red blowing flame, right up to the roof, that scattered piercing white sparks all among the goblins.  
     The yells and yammering, croaking, jibbering and jabbering; howls, growls, and curses; shrieking and screaming, that followed were beyond description. Several hundred wild cats and wolves being roasted slowly alive together would not have compared with it. The sparks were burning holes in the goblins, and the smoke that now fell from the roof made the air too thick for even their eyes to see through. Soon they were falling over one another and rolling in heaps on the floor, biting and kicking and fighting as if they had all gone mad.  
     Suddenly a pot flashed in the light of the fire. Belly-donna saw it gleam in Lardass’s hand, right before the Great Goblin as she stood dumbfounded in the middle of her rage. She fell silent, thinking she recognized the pot, and the goblin soldiers fell back at her command.  
     Lardass lowered the pot. “I propose a contest,” she said in a voice fierce and quiet. “I will cook for the dwarves, and your greatest will cook for your people best at eating. We will out-eat you for the space of two hours solid, or we will submit to you freely, and with us our gear. For behold! I carry Mereth-hir, the Master of Feasts, which even you know of old!”  
     “Feeder!” cried the Great Goblin, taking no notice of the dwarf of the same name startling at the cry. For the goblins just called Mereth-hir ‘Feeder’ and desired it more than Maker if possible. “And if you win, as unlikely as it is?” the Great Goblin went on.  
     Lardass smiled grimly, saying “then we get to leave freely and keep our equipment.”  
     Never one to miss an excuse to overeat, and wanting Maker and Feeder, and the dwarves without a struggle, the Great Goblin of course, agreed instantly.  
     Lickety-split, two long tables were set up, one with the thirteen dwarves and Ms. Big’uns, the other with the Great Goblin herself, and thirteen of the fattest, most ravenous goblins to be found under the Meaty Mountains. Lardass was provided a cooking set-up at the head of the dwarves’ table, and a master goblin chef set up likewise at the head of her people's’ table.  
     The Great Goblin, already drooling at the forthcoming feast, and the winning of Maker and Feeder, and the dwarves (enticingly nude, and already well-stuffed and succulent and likely to get more so), laughed horribly and called for the start of the contest. She immediately stripped nude also, and had her goblins do the same. The squeezing of overstretched clothes might slow them down; and she wanted no extra benefit for the dwarves.  
     Lardass and the goblin-chef moved fast indeed, preparing the first of the many dishes to be eaten. Using the powers of Mereth-hir, and Aescrist (snatched back from one of the guards), Lardass quickly finished and served the dwarves (and Belly-donna) their first course; a massive collection of bruschetta, devilled eggs, and dumplings, all made by Lardass with her own hands, and flung perfectly from Mereth-hir to their individual plates. The dwarves dove in, shoveling the heaping piles of eggs, massive pyramid of dumplings, and assortment of bruschetta into their gaping maws, alternating hands, one after the other, so that there was a steady river of food flowing down their throats.  
     Never looking at the goblins, Lardass flew to the next course; gallons upon gallons of thick creamy soup. The goblins’ usual feeding tableware included funnels, so they were provided to the dwarves also, and the dwarves, to the last, used them well, gripping the funnels in their teeth and just pouring the gallon-bowls of soup right down their throats, reveling in the sensations of the bellies tightening as more and more food packed in.  
     The soup done, Lardass had ready the next course, an ocean’s worth of fried fish, thickly breaded and dripping with oil. The dwarves stabbed each filet and squeezed the entire thing past their lips, chewing only briefly before pushing the next in, forcing the half-chewed mass into their bellies. Each dwarf packed in many dozens of filets, and still they went faster.  
     Next came meat. Lardass thought it prudent not to inquire too closely where the meat came from, but well-cooked, it served as good as beef or chicken. Swimming in rich apple and mint gravy, it slid into the dwarves by the pound. Several of the dwarves (and Belly-donna) went so far as to pour the extra gravy through the funnels after they had finished the hundreds of pounds of meat.  
     After the meat, Lardass returned to starches. Hundreds of bite-sized potatoes were boiled, then fried and drowned in heavy sauce. The dwarves and hobbit didn’t even need to chew them; just push them one after the other into their throats, making a steady parade into their swollen and still growing bellies.  
     After just an hour, barely halfway through their challenge, all the dwarves were far more bloated than they had ever dreamed of being, blown up by the powers of Aescrist and Mereth-hir to five or six times their normal expansive girth. The fat was accumulating all over their bodies, inflating not only their bellies but also their breasts and rear-ends, their legs and feet, even their heads and faces. Lardass, using her tools’ powers over food, kept their hands and arms (slightly) slimmer, so they could keep stuffing themselves as fast as ever.  
     They grew so much, that their bellies began to crowd against each other as they sat at the goblins’ table, growing to a solid wall of fat surrounding the table. So exciting was the massive gain that, in spite of their predicament, surrounded by slavering goblins, the dwarves (and especially Ms. Big’uns) started to writhe against their neighbors, drawing delightful pleasure-waves from their waves of fat rubbing their tits and buried pussies, even as they stuffed themselves faster than ever.  
     The next course: this was clearly bird-meat; chicken or goose, perhaps duck. Again, the dwarves didn’t waste time on tasting, just cramming impossible mouthfuls down to their bellies without even chewing.  
     Watching the goblins, Lardass saw that they were much messier than the dwarves, and nearly as much food fell on their bodies and entered their mouths. This didn’t affect their consumption so very much, since during times when their chef was cooking the next course, the goblins fell on each other, eating crumbs right off each others’ bellies and tits, and licking up the sauces from each others’ naked nipples, and right down to their pussies.  
     Looking back to the dwarves (and Belly-donna), Lardass saw that it was time for more liquid. She brewed up a punch, spiked with much ale, to numb their bellies and allow much further stuffing. As before, the dwarves and Belly-donna just poured them down the funnels, packing gallon after gallon each into themselves.  
     Panting now, with their effort and the sheer mass of food already in their overstuffed bellies, the dwarves looked blearily at Lardass as she flung the next course at them: many hundreds of bite-sized portions of squab. The dwarves could simply intercept the flying morsels with their mouths as they flew, eliminating the need to grab them from plates. Faster and faster they swelled, inflating with food like balloons.  
     Looking at the goblins now, Ms. Big’uns could see that, though much sloppier, the goblins were keeping pace with herself and the dwarves, blowing up just as fast. In fact, the Great Goblin was bloated and gargantuan, much larger than any other at the feast. The hobbit, justifiably proud of her capacity for stuffing, steeled herself to outdo that monstrous belly, to eat it into insignificance.  
     Lardass readied the next course, sweating now in the heat of the cavern, her clothing sticking to her massive figure, revealing every billowing curve to all onlookers. This course would normally be a salad with dressing, but Lardass piled so much fattening creamy dressing on that it seemed another soup. Into the dwarves it went, faster than ever, puffing them up ever-larger.  
     The dwarves’ (and Ms. Big’uns’s) jaws and arms began to get tired, so Lardass made a paté, a thin paste of goose-livers, intended for crackers, but just sucked down through tubes by the dwarves, by the pot-full.  
     As the final course, the desserts, was made and flung towards the gluttons, their long stuffing began to tell. Trying desperately to continue eating, nevertheless, one by one, all of the dwarves, and all the goblins, slowed to a stop, most dazed by the sheer fatigue of their massive two-hour stuffing. Only the Great Goblin herself, and our Belly-donna were able to keep feeding.  
     Eying each other, Belly-donna and the Great Goblin kept going, forcing themselves to not only continue packing in the sweets and confections, but to speed up. Belly-donna finally got to relive her memories of Lardass’s fabulous confections (gorged previously at the Old Cook’s dinner-parties, if you remember), and though the goblins’ food was clearly nowise near as tasty, the Great Goblin still crammed her belly full, determined to beat this upstart. Bigger and tighter their bellies swelled, creaking ominously as they went. Belly-donna, starting much shorter, though vastly stouter, than the Great Goblin, was sure to peter out first, the dwarves feared, though try as they might, they couldn’t stir their exhausted bodies to eat a single bite more. The goblins started slavering, knowing that their Chief had never lost a stuffing contest, and eagerly awaiting the now-impossibly-massive dwarves to consume.  
     Louder the creaking became, from both bellies, as fatter they grew. Belly-donna and the Great Goblin both began to slow down, not from fatigue, but simply because their gigantic bellies, easily ten times their former size, began to get in the way of their feeding. Goblin servants rushed to help their Chief to continue, and the dwarves managed somehow to rise and form the bucket brigades from their first night with Ms. Big’uns, and the feeding continued. This freed up Belly-donna’s hands, and she instantly grabbed one huge tit, squeezing her nipple, and dug the other under her impossibly huge belly to drive her fingers inside her pussy, already wet, to make herself cum over and over as she inflated with food and fat.  
     As the two-hour limit edged closer, the Great Goblin began to moan and whimper, but her subjects were too intent on their feeding to heed her. Finally, she was packed so much, so completely full, there was no way for her to swallow even one more bite. One of the goblins, with a glance at Belly-donna, still happily packing the food away and still of course giving herself one orgasm immediately after another, climbed up the Great Goblin’s massive belly, squeezing through the cavernous cleavage in her bloated bosom, and by hand, pushed the last morsel in, leaning all her body weight to force it down against the return pressure. As it pushed in, that last bite pushed the rest of her mouthful down her throat, and that pushed more into her already-overloaded stomach.  
     As the Great Goblin stubbornly closed her mouth over that last fateful bite, her belly began to squeak and gurgle, and suddenly, exploded in a spray of gore and half-digested food.  
     All the goblins, and the dwarves too, stared dumbfounded at the remains of the Great Goblin, finally stuffed beyond her capacity and done for. Lardass recovered first, and said, in a voice fierce and quiet, “follow me quick! Move your bloated bellies, tits, and asses, unless you want the goblins to revenge their Chief by devouring you anyway!”  
     Somehow, the dwarves managed to get their elephantine, bloated bodies to move, and began to totter away. “Half a minute!” said Treater, who was nearest Belly-donna and a decent girl. She could see clearly that Belly-donna’s now-cosmically-vast belly had totally engulfed her limbs; she was a monstrously huge, perfect sphere of pure fat, and was entirely immobile. Treater made Eater and Feeder heft the now-cosmically-fat hobbit along with her as best they could, and then off they all went, as fast as they could waddle. Not for a long while did they stop, and by that time they must have been right down in the very mountain’s belly.  
     Then Lardass lit up her wand again. “Are we all here?” said she, handing her cutlery back to More-in with a bow. “Let me see: one, that’s More-in; two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven; where are Feedee and Foodie? Here they are, twelve, thirteen-and here’s Ms. Big’uns: fourteen! And most impressively gorged, as well,” she added, eyeing Belly-donna’s ballooned ball of a body. “Well, well! It might be worse, and then again it might be a good deal better. No ponies, only the food we have with us, and no knowing quite where we are, and hordes of hungry goblins just behind! On we go!”  
     On they went. Lardass was quite right: they began to hear goblin noises and horrible cries far behind in the passages they had come through. That sent them on, waddling and pulling their gigantically bloated and stuffed bellies faster than ever, and as poor Belly-donna could not possible move under her own power, they took it in turns to lug her massive weight by teams.  
     Still goblins go faster than dwarves, especially the as-yet-unfed goblins and these terribly overstuffed dwarves, and the goblins were madly hangry; so that do what they could the dwarves heard the cries and howls getting closer and closer. Soon they could hear even the flap of the goblin feet, many many feet which seemed only just round the last corner. The blink of red torches could be seen behind them in the tunnel they were following; and they were getting deadly tired, hauling their massive weights and enormously bloated bellies.  
     “Why, O why did I ever leave my well-stocked hobbit-hole?” said poor Ms. Big’uns bumping up and down in Bigger, Blogger, and Bom-berry’s arms.  
     “Why, O why did I ever bring a stuffed-immobile hobbit on a food hunt!” said poor Bom-berry, who was still the fattest of all (excepting Belly-donna), and staggered along with the sweat dripping down her expansive bosom in her heat and terror.  
     At this point Lardass fell behind, and More-in and Gut, who were the least stuffed, and Feedee, who was still eager for more, with her. They turned a sharp corner. “About turn!” she shouted. “I fear we shall have to eat a few of them, to dissuade the rest!”  
     There was nothing else to be done; and the goblins did not like it. They came scurrying round the corner in full cry, and found the open maws of the dwarves and Lardass waiting right in their bloated faces. The ones in front dropped their torches and gave one yell before they were devoured. The ones behind yelled still more, and leaped back, knocking over those that were running after them. “Biting and eating!” they shrieked; and soon they were all in confusion; goblins ate others, they didn’t get eaten, and most of them were hustling back the way they had come.  
     It was quite a long while before any of them dared to turn that corner. By that time the dwarves had gone on again, a long, long way on into the dark tunnels of the goblins’ realm. When the goblins discovered that, they put out their torches and they slipped on soft shoes, and they chose out their very quickest runners with the sharpest eyes and ears. These ran forward, as swift as weasels in the dark, and with hardly any more noise than bats.  
     That is why neither Belly-donna, nor the dwarves, nor even Lardass heard them coming. Nor did they see them. But they were seen by the goblins that ran silently up behind, for Lardass was letting her wand give out a faint light to help the dwarves as they went along.  
     Quite suddenly Eater, Treater, and Feeder, now at the back again carrying Belly-donna, were grabbed from behind in the dark. They shouted and fell; and the hobbit rolled off down the passage, helplessly round like a huge ball, and couldn’t stop until she ran right into hard rock, bumped her head, and remembered nothing more.


	5. Feedings in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna, lost in the caverns, faces her own eating challenge, and finds a treasure.

     When Belly-donna opened her eyes, she wondered if she had; for it was just as dark as with them shut. No one was anywhere near her. Just imagine her fright! She could hear nothing, see nothing, and she could feel nothing except the stone of the floor against her bulging naked body.  
     Desperately, she kicked her feet to roll herself back and forth, till she rolled to the wall of the tunnel, and groped about with her hands; but neither up it nor down it could she find anything: nothing at all, no sign of goblins, no sign of dwarves. Her head was swimming, and she was far from certain even of the direction they had been going when she had her fall. She guessed as well as she could, and rocked herself again until at least her feet were under her, and made an attempt at moving. She found that she could, just barely, get her feet to move enough for tiny mincing steps; and she decided that she had been unconscious for long enough that her hobbit-digestion had taken away some of her wondrous belly. Not entirely happy news, but at least she was now mobile (if only barely). It was still quite challenging, however, to make any headway, and she spent nearly as much time rolling onto her belly, then rolling down the passage, as she did waddling onward. During one of the rollings, when she was nearly upside down, she felt her hand meet what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning point in her career, but she did not know it. She held onto the ring almost without thinking; certainly it did not seem of any particular use at the moment, and she had nowhere to put it anyway. She did not go much further, but lay there rolling around on her belly and gave herself up to the sensations of completely stuffed roundness for a long while. She thought of herself frying bacon and eggs in her favorite kitchen at home -- for she was still hungry, in spite of her packed belly, and felt that it was high time for some meal or other, and by rolling around mostly upright, she could use the pressure of the floor against her bloated and swollen pussy-lips to almost get herself off; but that only made her all the hungrier, and hornier, desperate now for the orgasm she almost got.  
     She could not think what to do; nor could she think what had happened; or why she had been left behind, after saving the dwarves by her own eating aptitude; or why, if she had been left behind, the goblins had not caught and devoured her; or even why her head was so sore. The truth was she had been lying quiet, out of sight and out of mind, in a very dark corner for a long while, digesting and regaining her mobility.  
     After some time, she felt that her belly had shrunk enough that she could stand on her own feet. She could, and that was something. Then she waddled a bit, and found she could move around, and that was something more. Then she remembered that she was totally naked and without any food to munch on, and that shattered her hopes completely. Just as well for her, as she agreed when she came to her senses. She well knew that in her state of mind, she would have scarfed everything she had, and would likely have been immobile again, and who knew what might be lurking out in the dark, waiting to devour a delicious, plump hobbit?  
     She stopped right there in the dark passageway and leaned against the wall. Reaching one hand down under her still-protruding belly, she dug three fingers inside her pussy, and tweaking one nipple on her bulbous swollen tits and biting her lips to keep as quiet as she could, immediately got herself off, having two or three quick orgasms one after another.  
     “Go back?” she thought, panting as she came back down from the heights of her orgasms. “No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” So forward she waddled, ever so slowly, on her bloated legs, pushing at her low-hanging belly-apron with every labored step.  
     Now certainly Belly-donna was in what is called a tight place, especially with her gigantic belly scraping along both walls of the passage, and impeding her every step. But you must remember it was not quite so tight for her as it would have been for me or for you. Hobbits are not like ordinary people, being much more used to moving with massively overstuffed bodies; and after all if their holes are nice cheery places and properly stocked with food, quite different from the tunnels of the goblins, still they are more used to tunnelling that we are, and they do not easily lose their sense of direction underground-- not when their heads have recovered from being bumped. Also they can move very quietly, and recover wonderfully from falls and bruises, and belly-popping meals, and they have a fund of wisdom and recipes that men have mostly never heard or have forgotten long ago.  
     I should not have liked to have been in Ms. Big’uns’s place, all the same. The tunnel seemed to have no end. All she knew was that it was still going down pretty steadily and keeping in the same direction in spite of a twist and a turn or two. There were passages leading off to the side every now and then, as she knew by feeling with her hand on the wall. Of these she took no notice, except to hurry past for fear of goblins or half-imagined dark things coming out of them. On and on she went, and down and down; and still she heard no sound of anything except the occasional whirr of a bat by her ears, which startled her at first, till it became too frequent to bother about. I do not know how long she kept on like this, hating to go on, not daring to stop, on, on, until she was tireder than tired, and had finished digesting all the massive load in her belly, growing fatter than ever, but regaining her full mobility. It seemed like all the way to tomorrow and over it to the days beyond.  
     Suddenly without any warning she trotted splash into water! Ugh! It was icy cold. That pulled her up sharp and short. She did not know whether it was just a pool in the path, or the edge of an underground stream that crossed the passage, or the brink of a deep dark subterranean lake. She could hear, when she listened hard, drops drip-drip-dripping from an unseen roof into the water below; but there seemed no other sort of sound.  
     “So it is a pool or a lake, and not an underground river,” she thought. Still she did not dare to wade out into the darkness. She could not swim, though her fat body would float well enough; and she thought, too, of nasty slimy things, with big bulging bellies and blind eyes, wriggling in the water. There are strange things living in the pools and lakes in the stomachs of mountains: fish whose fathers swam in, goodness only knows how many years ago, and never swam out again, while their bellies grew bigger and bigger and bigger from feasting in the blackness; also there are other things more slimy than fish. Even in the tunnels and caves the goblins have made for themselves there are other things living unbeknown to them that have sneaked in from outside to lie up in the dark. Some of these caves, too, go back in their beginnings to ages before the goblins, who only widened them to accommodate their bloated girth, and joined them up with passages, and the original owners are still there in odd corners, slinking and nosing about.  
     Deep down here by the dark water lived old Gulp-em, a bloated slimy creature. I don’t know where she came from, nor who or what she was. She was Gulp-em-- as dark as darkness, except for two big round pale eyes in her round face. She had a little boat, and she rowed about quite quietly on the lake; for lake it was, wide and deep and deadly cold. She paddled in it with her large belly billowing out over both sides, but never a ripple did she make. Not she. She was looking out of her pale lamp-like eyes for blind fish, which she grabbed with her long fingers as quick as thinking. She liked meat too. Goblin she thought good, when she could get it; but she took care they never found her out. She just gobbled them down, if they ever came down alone anywhere near the edge of the water, while she was prowling about. They very seldom did, for they had a feeling that something unpleasant was lurking down there, down at the very roots of the mountain. They had come on the lake, when they were tunnelling down long ago, and they found they could go no further; so there their road ended in that direction, and there was no reason to go that way -- unless the Great Goblin sent them. Sometimes, she took a fancy for fish from the lake, and sometimes neither goblin nor fish came back.  
     Actually Gulp-em lived on a slimy island of rock in the middle of the lake. She was watching Belly-donna now from the distance with her pale eyes like telescopes, rubbing her bulging belly absently. Belly-donna could not see her, but she was wondering about Belly-donna, for she could see that she was no goblin at all.  
Gulp-em got into her boat and shot off from the island, while Belly-donna was sitting on the brink altogether flummoxed and at the end of her way and her wits. Suddenly up came Gulp-em and whispered and hissed:  
     “Feed us and stuff us, my precioussss! I guess it’s a choice feast; a tasty big morsel it’d make us, glug-glug!” And when she said _glug-glug_ , she made a horrible swallowing noise in her throat. That is how she got her name, that and her habit of gulping down anything and everything she could get her lips around.  
     The hobbit jumped nearly out of her skin when the hiss came in her ears, and she suddenly saw the pale eyes sticking out at her.  
     “Who are you?” she said, jumping back away from this creature.  
     “What iss she, my preciouss?” whispered Gulp-em, patting her belly fondly (she always spoke to her own belly through never having anyone else to speak to). This is what she had come to find out, for she was not especially hungry at the moment, only curious; otherwise she would have grabbed first and whispered afterward.  
     “I am Ms. Belly-donna Big’uns. I have lost the dwarves and I have lost the wizard, and I don’t know where I am; and I don’t what to know, if only I can get away.”  
     “Sssss,” said Gulp-em, and became quite polite. “Praps we sits here and chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss. It likes food, praps it does, does it?” She was anxious to appear friendly, at any rate for the moment, and until she found out more about the hobbit, whether she was quite alone really, whether she was good to eat, and whether Gulp-em was really hungry, or perhaps horny.  
     “Yes, I quite do like food,” said Belly-donna, who was anxious to agree, until she found out more about this creature, whether she was quite alone, whether she was fierce or hungry, and whether she was a friend of the goblins. And of course, Belly-donna did very much like food, and lots of it, and at any time. And maybe, just maybe, she could convince this bloated creature to help her out; she was after all still edgy from her previous cumming and wouldn’t mind at all one or two more.  
     “Maybe it waits here, while we go and get some food to...share with it,” Gulp-em rasped. Still unsure of this strange creature, she decided to play for time, and get it to stuff itself, maybe to immobility, to be eaten at leisure. Goblins had done that, once upon a time, and Gulp-em had found it much easier to devour them, and more satisfying too, with them that huge.  
     “Very well,” said Belly-donna, who was also interested in stalling, and was also growing quite famished.  
     So, Gulp-em jumped back in her boat, and got many stores of old, dried and preserved, food from her island. She oftentimes would creep into the goblins’ storage caverns, and steal much of their extra food, to tide her over when she couldn’t get anything fresh. Just now, she had a huge stock of such food, but she always wanted more, and would (if the mood struck her) use the food as bait to lure in goblins or other creatures to feast on.  
     Loading up her boat to its full extent with all manner of food-stuffs, she quickly returned to Belly-donna waiting on the shore. She pulled the boat right up onto the path, heavily laden with its cargo, right between herself and the hobbit.  
     Belly-donna reached out into the boat and took hold of a heaping pile of mushrooms. “Thank you very much,” she said to the loathsome creature as she downed them all in an instant.  
     A bit put out at Ms. Big’uns’s speed, Gulp-em grabbed an even-bigger pile of some kind of edible that Belly-donna couldn’t quite make out (and wasn’t really sure she wanted to), and stuffed the whole mass into her mouth, chewed it up and gulped it down.  
     Still swallowing the last bits, Gulp-em said, “it must have a competition with us, my preciouss! If precious eats, and it can’t keep up, we eats it, my preciouss. If we can’t keep up, then we does what it wants, eh? We shows it the way out, yes!”  
     No stranger to eating competitions, especially over the last weeks, Belly-donna said, “all right!” and she slipped the ring onto her finger, to free up her hand from holding it, ready to grasp and cram as much food as she could down her throat.  
     Belly-donna sat on one side of the overloaded boat, and Gulp-em on the other. Immediately, the two grabbed huge double-handfuls of food and shoved in one mammoth mouthful after another. Belly-donna noticed that she found it easier to stuff even more than ever into herself. Focusing mostly on her feeding, she really didn’t think about it much, but she suspected the past weeks had improved her capacity and speed. She couldn’t imagine any other reason for it.  
     Gulp-em, on the contrary, was finding it harder than she was used to, to keep up with this hobbit-creature. She managed, of course, cramming one equally gigantic mouthful in herself for each of the hobbit’s. But she was troubled. As her belly (and the hobbit’s) swelled larger and tighter and fuller, she began eyeing the other, and wondering how this creature could keep up with her; no goblins she raced like this had ever done so well.  
     The two females kept going, digging deep into the boat, forcing more and more food down their gullets, inflating their bellies faster and faster, larger and larger. Belly-donna was now really surprised at how easy it was for her. Gulp-em, though, was getting worried, then angry as her belly, unlike ever before, reached its limits. She pushed herself, striving to out-eat her competitor, and managing to last until the boat was empty.  
     The two dropped backwards onto their backs, just resting their massive bellies, already rising high above them. Belly-donna’s reached up to nearly her own height, billowing out to the sides just as far; while Gulp-em’s was not even close to that. Belly-donna gently rubbed her belly, reveling in the wonderful feelings radiating from her packed belly. She felt that she could keep eating, blowing herself up larger and larger, for ever. She had no idea why she felt this, but even as stuffed as she was, she was ready to eat even more.  
     Gulp-em was moaning with the pain spreading out from her belly. She cradled her stretched stomach gently, trying to understand what had happened.  
The two were packed so full, their bellies so overloaded, that they were pressing with delightful force on their pussies. Without consciously deciding to, both of them reached one hand up to massage their bellies, and squeezed the other down underneath the billowing fat to dance inside their nether regions.  
Together, they panted and diddled themselves, edging closer to orgasm. Eagerly, they listened to each other’s pleasure-moans and the squelching of their hands in their own juices, letting the sense of mutual masturbation push them higher and closer to cumming. Almost in unison, the two hit their orgasms, screaming aloud in ecstasy. Belly-donna leaned over to glance at the other, but the gigantic weight of her mammoth belly pulled her down onto her side.  
     Gulp-em, meanwhile, less gargantuan, was able to stand up and waddle over to Belly-donna, cradling her aching domed belly, moaning in mixed pain and pleasure at every step. Gazing down at the other woman, she was suddenly carried away by lust and dropped onto her, latching onto one breast, kneading and squeezing it, and suckling on the nipple. Belly-donna moaned in pleasure again, and reached out her hand to grasp the other nipple (barely able to reach it past her new belly and the size of the breast itself), squeezing and massaging it.  
     Gulp-em licked and sucked on the nipple in her mouth for several minutes, before Belly-donna let go of the other and gently pushed her head downwards. Understanding what was wanted, Gulp-em licked her way down Belly-donna’s monumental stomach, kissing the tight sweat-sheened skin as she drifted lower, finally diving under the heavy flesh of the belly to eat out the hobbit. For several minutes, she ministered to Belly-donna, keeping her at the edge of an orgasm, letting it build and build and build until she latched her teeth gently onto Belly-donna’s clit, triggering the waiting climax instantly, and greedily gulping down the seeming-gallons of juice that Belly-donna’s pussy sprayed all over her.  
     Not satisfied yet, Gulp-em crawled out from under the hobbit’s massive belly and, seeing that the hobbit, between the exhaustion of several orgasms and the huge last one, and her own massively stuffed body, was completely immobile, climbed on top of Belly-donna’s face and ground her own pussy into her mouth. Out of reflex, Belly-donna jammed her tongue deep inside Gulp-em’s snatch, licking and sucking at every inner fold, and quickly bringing the creature off. Not bothering with the build-up, Belly-donna brought her off instantly and kept her cumming over and over, until she wilted, nearly catatonic from the many repeated orgasms.  
     Suddenly, laying exhausted and idly playing with her own body, Gulp-em suddenly realized why she had so much difficulty eating. She was not wearing her special ring! Kept on her island, nestled with her food stores, was a very beautiful, very wonderful golden ring, a precious ring.  
     “My birthday-present!” she whispered to herself, as she had often done in the endless days. “That’s what we wants now, yes, we wants it!”  
     She wanted it because it was a ring of power, and if you slipped it on your finger, you could eat anything, and your belly could stretch impossibly large to contain as much as you could possibly want, and more; and she had even gotten goblins to eat themselves to immobility with it, and once, even to bursting, desiring to eat even more. It made her hunting easier and made it generally impossible to lose any contest she started.  
     “My birthday-present! It came to me on my birthday, my precious.” So she had always said to herself. But who knows how Gulp-em came by that present, ages ago in the old days when such rings were still at large in the world? Perhaps even the Master who ruled them could not have said. Gulp-em used to wear it at first, till she became immobile from nonstop eating; and then she kept it in a pouch next to her skin, till she shrank down to mobility; and now she usually hid it in a hole in the rock on her island, and was always going back to look at it. And still sometimes she put it on, when she wanted to stuff herself big enough to cover the entire island, or when she was hungry for something fresh. Then she would creep along dark passages looking for stray goblins. She might make them eat into immobility, so she could take them. She might even venture to challenge them to eating contests; for she would be safe. Oh yes, quite safe. No one could eat more than her, when she had her ring on. Only a few hours ago, she had worn it, and caught a small goblin-imp. How it blew up when they raced! She still had some of its meat left, but she wanted something more.  
     “Quite safe, yes” she whispered to herself. “We can get it to stuff itself, can’t we my precious? Yes. It will grow, and grow, and it won’t be able to walk, or even move, no. We can have our way with it whenever we wants, and stuff it so fat it has to do what we says, before we eats it.”  
     That is what was in her mind, as she said suddenly to Belly-donna, “Praps another try? More food, maybe? Yes?”  
     Belly-donna, under normal circumstances only to eager to stuff herself, and now incredibly horny even after the massive stuffing and fucking, agreed immediately. Gulp-em heaved her gigantic stuffed belly back into her boat, and went off into the dark, telling Belly-donna she was getting more food for them. And she was, of course, but also she was going to get her birthday-present.  
     Suddenly, after some time, Belly-donna heard a screech. It sent a shiver down her back, making her belly jiggle like ripples in a huge lake. Gulp-em was cursing and wailing away in the gloom, not very far off by the sound of it. She was on her island, scrabbling here and there, searching and seeking in vain.  
     “Where is it? Where iss it?” Belly-donna heard her crying. “Losst it is, my precious, lost, lost! Starve us and eat us, my precious has lost it!”  
     “What’s the matter?” Belly-donna called. “What have you lost?”  
     “It mustn’t ask us,” shrieked Gulp-em. “not its business, no _glug-glug_! It’s losst, _glug, gulp, glug_.”  
     “Well so am I,” cried Belly-donna, “and I want to get unlost. And if we’ve finished eating, I won the game and you promised. So come along! Come and let me out, and then go on with your looking!”  
     Utterly miserable as Gulp-em sounded, Belly-donna could not find much pity in her heart, and she had a feeling that anything Gulp-em wanted so much could hardly be something good.  
     “Come along!” she shouted.  
     “No, not yet, precious!” Gulp-em answered. “We must search for it, it’s lost, _gulp-glug_.”  
     “But I ate more than you did, and you promised,” said Belly-donna.  
     “It ate more!” said Gulp-em. Then suddenly out of the gloom came a sharp hiss. “How did it do that? Did it have help? It must tell first.”  
     As far as Belly-donna knew, she didn’t have any extra help. Gulp-em’s mind had jumped to a guess far quicker than hers; naturally, for Gulp-em had brooded for ages on this one thing, and she was always afraid of its being stolen. But Belly-donna was annoyed at the delay. After all, she had won the game, pretty fairly (as well as she knew) at a horrible risk. “No. No help; what help could I have had here?”  
     “What help?” The sound came hissing louder and sharper, and as she looked towards it, to her alarm Belly-donna now saw two small points of light peering at her. As suspicion grew in Gulp-em’s mind, the light of her eyes burned with a pale flame.  
     “What have you lost?” Belly-donna persisted. But now the light in Gulp-em’s eyes had become a green fire, and it was coming swiftly nearer. Gulp-em was in her boat again, loaded with food before she realized her ring was gone, paddling wildly back to the dark shore; and such a rage of loss and suspicion was in her heart that no feast had any more allure for her.  
     Belly-donna could not guess what had maddened the wretched creature, but she saw that all was up, and that Gulp-em meant to murder her at any rate, never mind the pleasures they had just shared, and likely eat her in one bite too. Just in time she turned and ran blindly back up the dark passage down which she had come, her stuffed belly bouncing wildly with every step.  
     “How did it eat so much?” she heard the hiss loud behind her, and the splash as Gulp-em leapt from her boat.  
     “ _Did_ I have some help, I wonder?” she said to herself, as she panted and waddled along. She put her left hand up, and glimpsed the cold glint from the ring on her finger.  
     The hiss was closer behind her. She turned now and saw Gulp-em’s eyes like small green lamps coming up the slope. Terrified, she tried to run faster, but suddenly she struck her toes on a snag in the floor, and fell onto her belly and rolled along the passageway, out of control.  
     Gulp-em chased after her. Belly-donna grabbed at the floor, or the walls, as she rolled along the tunnel, fattened into a ball. Before long, she rolled right into the wall, and got stuck there, laying on her bloated belly with her arms and legs too far from the floor to get up.  
     Gulp-em, seeing her victim immobile and helpless, slowly approached her, savoring the anticipation. Belly-donna rocked back and forth, trying to get her feet to touch the floor, but failing completely. As Gulp-em neared, our fattened hobbit desperately cried: “Wait! Don’t you want to continue our competition? Eat so much more? I’ve won our race so far; you need to eat so much more to catch up to me!”  
     Gulp-em stopped, and just stared at Belly-donna, still helplessly immobile, for a moment, then she ran back to the boat, and started stuffing herself faster than ever.  
     “Curse it * _gulp_ *! Curse it * _munch_ *! Curse it * _crunch_ *!” hissed Gulp-em, around massive mouthfuls she crammed in. “Curse the Big’uns * _glug_ *! She’s found it, yes she must have. My * _slurp_ * birthday-present.”  
     Belly-donna pricked up her ears. She was at least beginning to guess herself. She rocked more, managing to roll herself closer to Gulp-em, who was still eating quickly, not looking around, but stuffing one handful after another into her belly.  
     “My birthday-present * _gulp_ *! Curse it! How did we * _slurp_ * lose it, my precious? Yes, that’s it. When we * _gulp_ * came this way last, when we * _gobble_ * stuffed that nassty little squeaker * _munch_ *. It slipped from us, after all these * _gulp_ * ages and ages! It’s gone! * _slurp_ *”  
     Suddenly Gulp-em started to weep, still stuffing herself. Belly-donna stayed very quiet and listened. After a while, Gulp-em stopped weeping, and still cramming food nonstop, began to talk. She seemed to be having an argument with her stomach.  
     “It’s no good going back there to search, no. * _gobble_ * We doesn’t remember * _gulp_ * all the places we’ve visited, all the * _crunch_ * things we’ve munched. And it’s no use. The Big’uns has found it, we says.”  
     “We guesses, precious, * _slurp_ *” and Gulp-em took one hand to pat her swelling belly, while the other hand kept feeding. “We can’t know till we find the nassty * _gulp_ * creature and squeezes it. * _munch_ * But it doesn’t know what the * _glug_ * present can do, does it? * _gobble_ * And it can’t go far. * _munch_ * It’s lost itself, the nassty nosey thing. * _gulp_ * It doesn’t know the way out. It said so.”  
     “It said so, yes * _glug_ *, but it’s tricksy. It doesn’t say what it means. * _gulp_ * It uses our ring, preciouss, and doesn’t say. * _munch_ * It knows a way in, it must know a way out, yes. It’s off to the back-door.”  
     “The goblinses will catch it then. * _gulp_ * It can’t get out that way, precious.”  
     “* _glug* *munch* *gulp_ * Goblinses! Yes, but if it’s got the present, * _slurp_ * our precious present, then goblinses will get it * _gulp_ *! They’ll find it, they’ll find out what it does. * _munch_ * One of the goblinses will put it on, and she’ll eat more * _glug_ * than ever was possible. She’ll even eat * _munch_ * not-food.”  
     “But what can we do, precious * _gulp_ *? It told us to eat; and we can’t disobey our precious's ring! * _slurp_ * We have to eat all this.”  
     “* _glug_ * Then let’s eat faster than fast, * _slurp_ * precious, and make haste, after the Big’uns!”  
     With that, Gulp-em somehow started to eat faster than ever, blowing up her already swollen and full belly as fast as a balloon. No doubt trying to goad herself to even faster speed, she reached one hand below her expanding belly and started to masturbate as she kept stuffing herself with the other hand, moaning from the dual pleasures of packing her belly full and playing with herself.  
     Belly-donna waited for no more; she rolled off of her belly (already shrunk back down to mobility!) and waddled away as fast as ever she could. She had to find the goblins; they would be guarding the way out! Her head was in a whirl of hope and wonder. It seemed that the ring she had was a magic ring: it made you able to eat more than your usual capacity! And could command others to eat too,as much as you wanted! She had heard of such things, of course, in old old tales; but it was hard to believe that she really had found one, by accident. Still there it was: Gulp-em with her stuffed belly was cramming even more in, just because Belly-donna had told her to.  
     On she went, listening for the noises of goblins, and listening too for Gulp-em, in case she was able to finish her forced feeding, and still walk. Belly-donna didn’t think that she would, after stuffing herself so much, but one couldn’t be too careful.  
     Sure enough, after a few minutes, Belly-donna heard a soft scrape, as of belly-flesh scraping along stone, and a quiet hiss. Gulp-em was coming for her, after all. Looking back, she saw a huge wall of fat coming at her. Gulp-em must have eaten so much that her belly was bloated bigger than the rest of her body, and she was still coming! But, there was no way she’d be able to see past her own enormous stomach. Belly-donna dared to squeeze into one of the side-passages, hoping that Gulp-em would miss her.  
     In a moment, Gulp-em was even with her. Belly-donna gaped as she saw the mammoth stuffed belly pushing past the entrance; it took almost five minutes to go past, it was so gargantuan! As she’d hoped, Gulp-em missed her completely; her head was nearly enveloped by her own colossal stomach.  
     When she had passed, Belly-donna slipped out and followed her. Finally, Gulp-em reached a particular side passage. She peered in, past her suffocating belly, and shrank back. “Here’s the passage! But we durstn’t go in, precious, no we durstn’t. Goblinses down there. Lots of goblinses. We smells them. Ssss!”  
     So they came to a dead stop. Gulp-em had brought Belly-donna to the way out after all, but Belly-donna could not get in! There was Gulp-em sitting humped up, blocking the opening with her massive flesh, and her eyes gleamed cold in her head, as she swayed her belly from side to side between her knees.  
     Belly-donna crept away from the wall more quietly than a mouse; but Gulp-em stiffened at once, and sniffed, and her eyes went green. She hissed menacingly but impotently, burdened as she was with her own body, so swollen that she could barely move at all.  
     Belly-dona almost stopped breathing, and went stiff herself. She was desperate. She must get away, out of this horrible darkness, while she had any mobility left; already she was growing hungry, as unlikely as that seemed, as full as her belly still was. Maybe it was a side-effect of the ring.  
     She ran right at Gulp-em, and right into her bulbous belly. She pushed with all her strength and momentum, rolling Gulp-em over onto her belly, far too fat now for her arms and legs to reach the ground. Gulp-em made a grab for her anyway, nearly grabbing hold of Belly-donna’s ponderous breasts, and Belly-donna sped off down the new tunnel. She did not turn to see what Gulp-em was doing; if she could get to her feet. There was a hissing and cursing almost at her heels at first, then it stopped. All at once there came a bloodcurdling shriek, filled with hatred and despair. Gulp-em was defeated. She couldn’t move her belly. She had lost: lost her prey (and maybe a feeding-sex playmate), and lost, too, the only thing she had ever cared for, besides her precious belly, her ring. The cry brought Belly-donna’s heart to her mouth, but still she held on. Now faint as an echo, but menacing, the voice came behind:  
     “Thief, thief, thief! Big’uns! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it for ever!”  
     Then there was a silence. But that too seemed menacing to Belly-donna. “If goblins are so near that she smelt them,” she thought, “then they’ll have heard her shrieking and cursing. Careful now, or this way will lead you to worse things.”  
     The passage was low and roughly made. It was not too difficult, except when, she scraped her poor gigantic belly on nasty jagged stones in the floor. “A bit low for goblins, at least for the hugely stuffed ones,” thought Belly-donna, not knowing that even the most well-fed ones, the Gorgers of the mountains, go along at a great speed dragging their bellies on the ground.  
     Soon the passage that had been sloping down began to go up again, and after a while it climbed steeply. That slowed Belly-donna down, pulling her heavy body, bulging at bosom and belly, up the steep slope. But at last the slope stopped, the passage turned a corner-- a glimpse of light. Not red light, as of fire or lantern, but a pale out-of-doors sort of light. Then Belly-donna began to run. Her belly was steadily shrinking, expanding the rest of her body as she digested, but all the same, making it easier to move.  
     Scuttling as fast as her still-dragging belly let her, she turned the last corner and came suddenly right into an open space, where the light, after all that time in the dark, seemed dazzlingly bright. Really it was only a leak of sunshine in through a doorway, where a great door, a stone door, was left standing open.  
     Belly-donna blinked, and then suddenly she saw the goblins: goblins in full armor with drawn cutlery sitting just inside the door, and watching it with wide eyes, and watching the passage that led to it. They were aroused, alert, and ready to feed. Indeed, being so aroused, several of the goblins were stuffing themselves in an eating race, and most of the others were cheering them on, and a few were fucking themselves and each other, in lust from the stuffing they watched.  
     Belly-donna, perhaps remembering what Gulp-em had said about the ring’s powers, or perhaps just hungry from her long walking and continual fright (or maybe the influence of the ring), leaped into the room, and grabbed the nearest goblin, shoving her down her own throat whole. Hardly thinking about what she was doing, Belly-donna swept through the chamber, gulping down six goblins before the rest realized she was there.  
     Whistles blew, armor clashed, cutlery rattled, goblins cursed and swore and ran hither and thither, falling over one another and getting very angry, as they realized someone was eating them. Several of them ran right at Belly-donna, meaning to eat her up, but she just opened her mouth wide, and she squeezed the goblins down her throat by their own force. In the confusion, she was able to down seven more (fourteen in total, if you’re keeping track). Her belly was returning to its massive, stretched dimensions as the goblins filled her up, and their struggling inside her caused her no end of discomfort, as well as throwing her body around as they pushed at her belly. But by sheer luck, as she lay on her back in the middle of the room, the goblin captain tripped over her gigantic belly and fell right into her mouth, head-first. The last four goblins in the room took one look at Belly-donna’s enormous belly, bulged and filled with their still-quivering compatriots, and ran shrieking from the room.  
     Panting with the effort of containing the still-wriggling goblins, Belly-donna struggled to her feet, and waddled out the door, cradling her gorged and abused belly as she went.  
     Of course more goblins soon came down after her, hooting and hallooing, and hunting among the trees. But they don’t like the sun: it makes their legs wobble and their heads giddy. They could not find Belly-donna, and honestly weren’t so eager to, having heard about the hobbit’s ingestion of the other goblins. Belly-donna had escaped.


	6. Out of the Frying Pan, Balloon to the Belly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna is reunited with the dwarves, they are trapped by goblins, and escape.

     Belly-donna had escaped the goblins, but she did not know where she was. She had lost all her clothes, her pony, her food (most distressing) and her friends. She wandered on and on, till the sun began to sink westwards-- _behind_ the mountains. Their shadows fell across Belly-donna’s path, and she looked back. Then she looked forward and could see before her only ridges and slopes falling towards lowlands and plains glimpsed occasionally between the trees.  
     “Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “I seem to have got right to the other side of the Meaty Mountains, right to the edge of the Land Beyond! Where and O where can Lardass and the dwarves have got to? I only hope to fullness they are not still back there in the bellies of the goblins!”  
     She still wandered on, out of the little high valley, over its edge, and down the slopes beyond; but all the while a very uncomfortable thought was growing inside her. She wondered whether she ought not, now she had a magic ring, to go back into the horrible, horrible, tunnels and look for her friends. She had just made up her mind that it was her duty, that she must turn back-- and very miserable she felt about it-- when she heard voices.  
     She stopped and listened. It did not sound like goblins; so she crept forward carefully. She was on a stony path winding downwards with a rocky wall on the left hand; on the other side the ground sloped away and there were dells below the level of the path overhung with bushes and low trees. In one of these dells under the bushes people were talking.  
     She crept still nearer, and suddenly she saw peering between two big boulders like gigantic breasts a head with a red hood on: it was Balloon doing look-out. She could have clapped and shouted for joy, but she did not. As it happened, Balloon was looking the wrong way at the moment Belly-donna saw her. “I will give them all a surprise,” she thought, as she hid in the bushes at the edge of the dell, and moving with more than hobbit-caution, she slipped into the dell with Balloon never seeing her. Lardass was arguing with the dwarves. They were discussing all that had happened to them in the tunnels, and wondering and debating what they were to do now. The dwarves were grumbling, and Lardass was saying that they could not possibly go on with their journeying leaving Ms. Big’uns in the hands, or bellies, of the goblins, without trying to find out if she was alive or eaten, and without trying to rescue her.  
     “After all she is my friend,” said the wizard, “and not a bad little lady. I feel responsible for her. I wish to fatness you had not lost her.”  
     The dwarves wanted to know why she had ever been brought at all, why she could not stick to her friends and come along with them, and why the wizard had not chosen someone with more sense. “She has been more trouble than use so far,” said one. “If we have got to go back into those abominable tunnels to look for her, the drat her, I say.”  
     Lardass answered angrily: “I brought her, and I don’t bring things that are of no use. If you remember, it was her abilities at eating that got the Great Goblin to explode, and let us escape ourselves. Either you help me to look for her, or I go and leave you here to get out of the mess as best you can yourselves. If we can only find her again, you will thank me before all is over. Whatever did you want to go and drop her for?”  
     “You would have dropped her,” said Treater, speaking for all three who were carrying her last, “if a goblin had suddenly grabbed your leg from behind in the dark!” “And tripped up your feet,” added Feeder. “And kicked you in the back!” finished Eater.  
     “Then why didn’t you pick her up again?”  
     “Good heavens!” added Feeder. “Can you ask! Goblins biting in the dark, everybody falling over bodies and trying to eat one another! You nearly ate me head-first, and More-in was chomping everything in sight.” (More-in proudly patted her swollen and tightly-packed belly.) “All of a sudden you gave one of your blinding flashes, roasting some of them in an instant, and we saw the rest of the goblins running back yelping. Once we ate them up, you shouted ‘follow me, everybody!’ and everybody ought to have followed. We thought everybody had. There was no time to count, as you know quite well, till we had eaten our way through the gate-guards, out of the lower door, and helter-skelter down here. And here we are-- without the burglar, confusticate her!”  
     “And here’s the burglar!” said Belly-donna stepping down into the middle of them.  
     Bless me, how they jumped! They they shouted with surprise and delight. Lardass was as astonished as any of them at her hugely fattened body, but probably more impressed than all the others. She called to Balloon and told her what she thought of a look-out who let people walk right into them like that without warning. It is a fact that Belly-donna’s reputation went up a very great deal with the dwarves after this. If they had still doubted she was really a first-class burglar, in spite of Lardass’s words, they doubted no longer; to sneak past Balloon with such a hugely stuffed belly was most impressive indeed. Balloon was the most puzzled of all; but everyone said it was a very clever bit of work.  
     Indeed Belly-donna was so pleased with their praise that she just chuckled inside; and when they asked her how she did it, she said: “O, just crept along, you know-- very carefully and quietly.”  
“Well, it is the first time even a mouse has crept along carefully and quietly past my very belly and not been spotted,” said Balloon, “and I take off my hood to you.” Which she did.  
     “Balloon at your service,” said she.  
     “Your servant, Ms. Big’uns,” said Belly-donna.  
Then they wanted to know all about her adventures after they had lost her, and she sat down and told them everything-- except the finding of the ring (“not just now” she thought). They were particularly interested in the eating competition, and shuddered most appreciatively at her description of Gulp-em.  
     “And then we emptied out her boat, to the bare floor,” ended Belly-donna; “and I had eaten much more than she. So I said: ‘what about your promise? Show me the way out!’ But she came at me to devour me, and I ran (as best I could), and tripped on my massive belly and rolled a while. I hid in a side passageway, and she missed me in the dark. Then I followed her, because I heard her talking to her stomach. She thought I really knew the way out, and so she was making for it. And then she sat down in the entrance, and I could not get by. So I pushed her over onto her belly, and she was so stuffed she couldn’t move, and I escaped and ran down to the gate.”  
     “What about guards?” they asked. “Weren’t there any?”  
     “O yes! lots of them; but I managed to eat a few, in one gulp each, too,” she said, hefting her still hugely stuffed belly proudly. “And I got through all right-- and here I am.”  
     The dwarves looked at her with quite a new respect for her eating abilities, when she talked about eating guards in one bite, and out-eating a creature like Gulp-em, as if it was not very difficult or very alarming.  
     “What did I tell you?” said Lardass laughing. “Ms. Big’uns has more about her than you guess.” She gave Belly-donna a queer look from over her jutting bosom as she said this, and the hobbit wondered if she guessed at part of her tale that she had left out.  
     Then she had questions of her own to ask, for if Lardass had explained it all by now to the dwarves, Belly-donna had not heard it. She wanted to know how the wizard had turned up again, and where they had all got to now.  
     The wizard, to tell the truth, never minded explaining her cleverness more than once, so now she had told Belly-donna that both she and Enedrond had been well aware of the presence of evil goblins in that part of the mountains. But their main gate used to come out on a different pass, one more easy to travel by, and so they often caught people benighted near their gates. Evidently people had given up going that way, and the goblins must have opened their new entrance at the top of the pass the dwarves had taken, quite recently, because it had been found quite safe up to now.  
     “I must see if I can’t find a more or less decent giant to block it up again,” said Lardass, “or soon there will be no getting over the mountains at all.”  
     As soon as Lardass had heard Belly-donna’s yell, she realized what had happened. In the flash which had killed the goblins that were grabbing her she had nipped them down into her belly and slipped inside the crack, just as it snapped to. She followed after the drivers and prisoners right to the edge of the great hall, and there she sat down and worked up the best plan she could in the shadows.  
     “A very ticklish business, it was,” she said. “Touch and go!”  
     But, of course, Lardass had made a special study of bewitchments of cooking and calories (even the hobbit had never forgotten the magic feasts at Old Cook’s midsummer-eve parties, as you remember). The rest we all know-- except that Lardass knew all about the back-door, as the goblins called the lower gate, where Belly-donna (and the dwarves, and Lardass too) devoured so many goblins. As a matter of fact it was well known to anybody who was acquainted with this part of the mountains; but it took a wizard to keep her head in the tunnels and guide them in the right direction.  
     “They made that gate ages ago,” she said, “partly for a way of escape, if they needed one; partly as a way out into the lands beyond, where they still come in the dark and do great damage. They guard it always and no one has ever managed to block it up. They will guard it doubly after this,” she laughed.  
     All the others laughed too. After all they had lost a good deal, but they had popped the Great Goblin and eaten up a great many others besides, and they had all escaped, and indeed after devouring so many goblins in their escape, they were still quite well-stuffed. So they might be said to have had the best of it so far.  
     But the wizard called them to their senses. “We must be getting on at once, now we are a little rested,” she said. “They will be out after us in hundreds when night comes; and already the shadows are lengthening. They can smell our footsteps for hours and hours after we have passed. We must be miles on before dusk. There will be a bit of a moon, if it keeps fine, and that is lucky. Not that they mind the moon much, but it will give us a little light to steer by.”  
     “O yes!” she said in answer to more questions from the hobbit. “You lose track of time inside goblin-tunnels. Today’s Thursday, and it was Monday night or Tuesday morning that we were captured. We have gone miles and miles, and come right down through the stomach of the mountains, and are now on the other side-quite a short cut. But we are not at the point to which our pass would have brought us; we are too far to the North, and have some awkward country ahead, especially naked and without food. And we are still pretty high up. Let’s get on!”  
     “I am so dreadfully hungry,” groaned Belly-donna, who was still wearing the ring. Her stomach felt all empty and loose and her legs all wobbly, now that the goblins were well and truly digested.  
     “Can’t help it,” said Lardass, “unless you like to go back and ask the goblins nicely to let you have your pony back and your luggage. Or to let you devour some more of them!”  
     “That’s a thought,” said Belly-donna, “but no thank you all the same!”  
     “Very well then, we must just endure our hunger pangs and trudge on -- or we shall be made into supper, and that will be much worse than having none ourselves.”  
     As they went on Belly-donna looked from side to side for something to eat; but the blackberries were still only in flower, and of course there were no nuts, nor even hawthorn-berries. She nibbled a bit of sorrel, and she guzzled most of a huge mountain-stream that crossed the path, and she ate up a whole patch of wild strawberries that she found on the bank, but it wasn’t nearly enough, though her bulging bloated belly sloshed at every step, it was so full of water.  
     They still went on and on. The rough path disappeared. The bushes, and the long grasses, between the boulders, the patches of rabbit-cropped turf, the thyme and the sage and the marjoram, and the yellow rockroses all vanished, and they found themselves at the top of a wide steep slope of fallen stones, the remains of a landslide. When they began to go down this, rubbish and small pebbles rolled away from their feet; soon larger bits of split stone went clattering down and started other pieces below them slithering and rolling; then lumps of rocks were disturbed and bounded off, crashing down with a dust and a noise. Before long, the whole slope above them and below them seemed on the move, and they were rolling down, their heavy round bellies keeping them rolling helplessly as they went.  
     It was the trees at the bottom that saved them. They rolled right into the edge of a climbing wood of pines that here stood right up the mountain slope from the deeper darker forests of the valleys below. Some caught hold of the trunks and swung themselves into lower branches, some (like the hobbit) got behind a tree to shelter as best they could (their massive bellies poked out far to either side of any tree, even the widest) from the onslaught of the rocks. Soon the danger was over, the slide had stopped, and the last faint crashes could be heard as the largest of the disturbed stones went bounding and spinning among the bracken and the pine-roots far below.  
     “Well! That has got us on a bit,” said Lardass; “and even goblins tracking us will have a job to come down here quietly.”  
     “I daresay,” grumbled Bom-berry, “but they won’t find it difficult to send stones bouncing down on our heads.” The dwarves (and Belly-donna) were feeling far from happy, and were rubbing their bruised and damaged legs and feet, and their hungry bellies in the bargain.  
     “Nonsense!” We are going to turn aside here out of the path of the slide. We must be quick! Look at the light!” The sun had long gone behind the mountains. Already the shadows were deepening about them, though far away through the trees and over the black tops of those growing lower down they could still see the evening lights on the plains beyond. They limped along now as fast as they were able down the gentle slopes of a pine forest in a slanting path leading steadily southwards. At times they were pushing through a sea of bracken with tall fronds rising right above the hobbit’s head; at times they were marching along quiet as quiet over a floor of pine-needles; and all the while the forest-gloom got heavier and the forest-silence deeper. There was no wind that evening to bring even a sea-sighing into the branches of the trees.  
     “Must we go any further?” asked Belly-donna, when it was so dark that she could only just see More-in’s belly wagging beside her, and so quiet she could hear the dwarves’ panting like a loud noise. “My toes are all bruised and bent, and my legs ache, and my stomach is wagging like an empty sack.”  
     “An _empty_ sack? Not your belly, Ms. Big’uns. At any rate, it’s still a bit further,” said Lardass.  
     After what seemed like ages further they came suddenly to an opening where no trees grew. The moon was up and was shining into the clearing. Somehow it struck all of them as not at all a nice place, although there was nothing wrong to see.  
     All of a sudden they heard a howl away downhill, a long shuddering howl. It was answered by another away to the right and a good deal nearer to them; then by another not far away to the left. It was wolves howling at the moon, wolves gathering together!  
     There were no wolves living near Ms. Big’uns’s hole at home, but she knew that noise. She had had it described to her often enough in tales. One of her elder cousins (on the Cook side), who had been a great traveller, used to imitate it to frighten her. To hear it out in the forest under the moon was too much for Belly-donna. Even magic rings are not much use against wolves-- especially against the evil packs that lived under the shadow of the goblin-infested mountains, over the Edge of the Wild on the borders of the unknown. Wolves of that sort are quite fast, and can devour you almost before you can see them!  
     “What shall we do, what shall we do!” she cried. “Escaping goblins to be eaten by wolves!” she said, and it became a proverb, though we now say ‘out of the frying-pan into the fire’ in the same sort of uncomfortable situations.  
     “Up the trees quick!” cried Lardass; and they ran to the trees at the edge of the glade, hunting for those that had branches fairly low, or were slender enough to clamber up, yet strong enough to hold their massive bodies. They found them as quick as ever they could, you can guess; and up they went as high as ever they could trust the branches. You would have laughed (from a safe distance), if you had seen the dwarves sitting up in the trees with their bellies and bosoms dangling down. Feedee and Foodie were at the top of a tall larch like an enormous Christmas tree. Eater, Treater, Feeder, Gut, and Glut were more comfortable in a huge pine with regular branches sticking out at intervals like the spokes of a wheel. Bigger, Blogger, Bom-berry, and More-in were in another. D’widen and Balloon had swarmed up a tall slender fir with few branches and were trying to find a place to sit in the greenery of the topmost boughs. Lardass, who was a good deal taller, as well as wider and more endowed, than the others, had found a tree into which they could not climb, a large pine standing at the very edge of the glade. She was quite hidden in its boughs, but you could see moonlight gleaming off the skin of her colossal bosom as she peeped out.  
     And Belly-donna? She could not get into any tree; she was far too fat and heavy, and was waddling about from trunk to trunk, like a rabbit stuffed on garden-greens that has lost its hole and has a dog after it.  
     “You’ve left the burglar behind again!” said Eater to Treater looking down.  
     “I can’t always be carrying burglars on my back,” said Treater, “down tunnels and up trees! How strong do you think I am?”  
     “She’ll be eaten for sure if we don’t do something,” said More-in, for there were howls all around them now, getting nearer and nearer. “Treater!” she called, for Treater was the lowest down in the easiest tree, “be quick and give Ms. Big’uns a lift up!”  
     Treater was really a decent lady in spite of her grumbling. Poor Belly-donna hadn’t the strength to climb up even when she climbed to to the bottom branch and hung her arm down as far as ever she could. So Treater actually climbed out of the tree and let Belly-donna scramble up and stand on her back, braced against the tree trunk.  
     Just at that moment the wolves trotted howling into the clearing. All of a sudden there were hundreds of eyes looking at them. Still Treater did not let Belly-donna down. She waited till she had clambered off her shoulders into the branches, and then she jumped for the branches herself. Only just in time! A wolf snapped at her as she swung up, and nearly got her. In a minute there was a whole pack of them yelping all round the tree and leaping up at the trunk, with eyes blazing and tongues hanging out.  
     But even the wild Wolfers (for so the evil wolves over the Edge of the Wild were named, after their speedy devouring of anything they can get ahold of) cannot climb trees. For a time they were safe. Luckily it was warm and not windy. Trees are not very comfortable to sit in for long at any time; but in the cold and the wind, with wolves all round below waiting to eat you, they can be perfectly miserable places.  
     This glade in the ring of trees was evidently a meeting-place of the wolves. More and more kept coming in. They left guards at the foot of the tree in which Treater and Belly-donna were, and then went sniffing about till they had smelt out every tree that had anyone in it. These they guarded too, while all the rest (hundred and hundreds it seemed) went and sat in a great circle in the glade; and in the middle of the circle was a great gray wolf. She spoke to them in the dreadful language of the Wolfers. Lardass understood it. Belly-donna did not, but it sounded terrible to her, as if all their talk was about cruel and wicked things, as it was. Every now and then all the Wolfers in the circle would answer their gray chief all together, and their dreadful clamor almost made the hobbit fall out of her pine-tree.  
     I will tell you what Lardass heard, though Belly-donna did not understand it. The Wolfers and the goblins often helped one another in wicked deeds. Goblins do not usually venture very far from their mountains, unless they are driven out and are looking for new homes, or are marching to a feeding-battle (which I am glad to say has not happened for a long while). But in those days they sometimes used to go on raids, especially to get food or slaves to work for them. Then they often got the Wolfers to help and shared the plunder with them. Sometimes they rode on wolves like men do on horses. Now it seemed that a great goblin-raid had been planned for that very night. The Wolfers had come to meet the goblins and the goblins were late. The reason, no doubt, was the popping of the Great Goblin, and all the excitement caused by the dwarves and Belly-donna and the wizard, for whom they were probably still hunting.  
     In spite of the dangers of this far land bold men had of late been making their way back into it from the South, cutting down trees, and building themselves places to live and eat among the more pleasant woods in the valleys and along the river-shores. There were many of them, and they were brave and well-fed, and even the Wolfers dared not attack them if there were many together, or in the bright day. But now they had planned with the goblins’ help to come by night upon some of the villages nearest the mountains. If their plan had been carried out, there would have been none left there the next day; all would have been eaten up except the few the goblins kept from the wolves and carried back as prisoners to their caves.  
     This was dreadful talk to listen to, not only because of the brave woodsmen and their fat children and fatter wives, but also because of the danger which now threatened Lardass and her friends. The Wolfers were angry and puzzled at finding them here in their very meeting-place. They thought that they were friends of the woodsmen, and were come to spy on them, and would take news of their plans down into the valleys, and then the goblins and the wolves would have to fight a terrible battle instead of capturing prisoners and devouring people waked suddenly from their sleep. So the Wolfers had no intention of going away and letting the people up the trees escape, at any rate not until morning. And long before that, they said, goblin soldiers would be coming down from the mountains; and goblins can climb trees, or cut them down.  
     Now you can understand why Lardass, listening to their growling and yelping, began to be dreadfully afraid, wizard though she was, and to feel that they were in a very bad place, and had not yet escaped at all. All the same she was not going to let them have it all their own way, though she could not do very much stuck up in a tall tree with wolves all round on the ground below. She gathered her magic, and she put a spell on the wolves below. Soon, many of them were rushing round and round, biting and snapping at the other wolves, trying to devour them. Those wolves who resisted Lardass’s spell fought back, trying to eat the enspelled wolves.  
     The dwarves and Belly-donna shouted and cheered. The rage of the wolves was terrible to see, and the commotion they made filled all the forest. Wolfers are hungry at all times, but this was a most uncanny hunger, impossible to satisfy, and unless they ate up anything they saw, they would be writhing with hunger pains on the ground. Very soon all about the glade wolves were chasing after each other, desperately starving, till their own friends chased them away and they fled off down the slopes crying and yammering and looking for anything at all to force down.  
     Then suddenly goblins came running up yelling. They thought a battle with the woodsmen was going on; but they soon learned what had really happened. Some of them actually sat down and laughed. Others waved their cutlery and clashed their pots with the lids. Goblins are crafty, and soon had a plan which seemed to the most amusing.  
     Some got all the wolves together in a pack, killing those enspelled and letting the others eat them. Some stacked fern and brushwood round the tree-trunks. Others lit fires in the tinder. Soon they had a ring of smoke and flame all round the dwarves, a ring which they kept from spreading outwards; but it closed slowly in, till the running fire was licking the fuel piled under the trees. Smoke was in Belly-donna’s eyes, she could feel the heat of the flames; and through the reek she could see the goblins dancing round and round in a circle like people round a midsummer bonfire. Outside the ring of dancing goblins stood the wolves at a respectful distance, watching and waiting.  
     She could hear the goblins beginning a horrible song:

> _Fifteen birds in five firtrees,_  
>  _Their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze!_  
>  _But funny bloated birds, they had no wings!_  
>  _O what shall we do with the funny bloated things?_  
>  _Roast ‘em alive, or steam them in a pot;_  
>  _fry them, boil them and eat them hot!_

     Then they stopped and shouted out: “Fly away bloated birds! Fly away if you can! Come down swollen birds, or you will get roasted in your nests! Sing, sing fat little birds! Why don’t you sing?”  
     “Go away! Skinny girls!” shouted Lardass in answer. “It isn’t bird-nesting time! Also naughty skinny girls that play with fire get punished.” She said it to make them angry, and to show them she was not frightened of them-- though of course, she was, wizard though she was. But they took no notice, and they went on singing.

> _Burn, burn tree and fern!_  
>  _Sear and scorch! A fizzling torch_  
>  _To cook our meal and make it squeal,_  
>  _Ya hey!_  
>  _Bake and toast ‘em, fry and roast ‘em_  
>  _when we eat, they’ll be our treat;_  
>  _when food’s done and we feast_  
>  _on a bun, the flesh well-greased_  
>  _in fire sear_  
>  _and give a cheer!_  
>  _For dwarves to eat_  
>  _and stuff our bellies with their meat_  
>  _Ya hey!_  
>  _Ya-harri-hey!_  
>  _Ya hoy!_

     And with that _Ya hoy!_ the flames were under Lardass’s tree. In a moment it spread to the others. The bark caught fire, the lower branches cracked.  
Then Lardass climbed to the top of her tree. The sudden splendor flashed from her wand like lightning, as she cast the spell she had readied. All at once, Lardass, the dwarves, and Ms. Big’uns started to inflate. As the flames leaped higher up the trees, all fifteen of them started to swell, to inflate, really. Lardass’s spell was turning them all into huge balloons. Just a bit at first, the dwarves noticed their middles start to expand, pushing out slightly. Belly-donna, so much fatter than the dwarves anyway, took longer to notice, but sure enough, her belly was expanding too. Steadily, all of them kept growing bigger, their bellies clearly domes now, tight and filled. But the inflation wasn’t done yet, not at all. More and still more, they expanded, their stomachs now growing so large that it began to absorb the tops of their legs. The continual growing of their bodies started to push their arms up, resting straight out from their sides. The inflation continued; now their bosoms began to swell, and their rears too. Every part of their bodies was swelling with air (or some sort of gas). The dwarves (and Ms. Big’uns) started to feel lighter, bouncing on the branches as they kept filling up. Soon, their arms and legs started to puff along with the rest, billowing out wider and fuller, even as their main bodies began to envelop their limbs. Forced now to spread-eagled, held completely immobile by their still-expanding bodies.  
     Of course, Balloon was in ecstasy at being inflated, even larger than she could get on her own, and moaned and reveled in her bloating form as they bloated on, larger and fuller, but for Ms. Big’uns and the other dwarves, this unexpected bloating was actually quite disconcerting. Even though they were lifting up and away from the goblins, Wolfers, and the burning trees, they screamed in a panic that grew even as their bodies did.  
     Quite huge now, and already floating up from the trees, all fifteen of them were totally rounded spheres of flesh, completely filled up with whatever gas it was. The only normal features remaining visible were their now-immense bosoms billowing out like extra hot-air balloons from their chests, vibrating and quivering as they inflated even more. Their still-puffing arms and legs were completely enveloped by their round balloon-bodies, leaving just chasms in their roundness. Each one of them was merely a collection of three gigantic spheres joined together; the main body, totally perfectly rounded and firmly packed with the gas, and two equally-voluminous breasts poking out, just as firm and full.  
     Away they floated, up and up, safely away from the fires and the goblins. Now far below the goblins and the wolves were scattering far and wide in the woods, searching for the dwarves’ trail. But floating so high as bloated balloons, no trail was to be found.  
     At the best of times, heights made Belly-donna giddy. She used to turn queer if she looked over the edge of quite a little cliff; and she had never liked ladders, let alone trees (never having had to escape from wolves before). So you can imagine how her head swam now, when she turned upside down and looked out to see the dark lands opening wide underneath her, touched here and there with the light of the moon on a hill-side rock or a stream in the plains. She tried to lose herself in the enjoyable sensations of being blown up completely round, and spent some pleasurable time rubbing her hands along the inside of the dimples they formed in her distended flesh.  
     Helpless to control their course, the dwarves, Lardass, and Belly-donna floated along towards the plains, leaving the goblins far behind. A good while later, Lardass released her spell, and they slowly deflated, their bodies letting all the gas out by every hole they had. Gas rushed out their mouths in long continuous belches, and out their rears in equally steady flatulence as they sank slowly down to land near a river running through the plains.  
     Ms. Big’uns and the wizard and the dwarves (excepting Balloon) were quite put off by the feeling of weightless stoutness, and first foraged for something to eat, to feel a sense of extra heavy weight in them again. After some searching they found a wide patch of wild berries, and nearby an orchard of fruit trees: pear, and peach, and plum, and apple. Happily, they settled in and ate their way through all of the many fruit trees they found, feeling well-fed and massively stuffed for the first time since their contest with the goblins.  
     Before long, being at ease and relaxed for the first time in many days, they couldn’t resist starting to feed each other. Feeder and Feedee paired off immediately (of course), but all of them ended up not only stuffing themselves, but each other as well. Belly-donna especially was a popular partner; she was so very skilled at eating, all the dwarves wanted to see it close up. In fact, for a while, four or five of the dwarves all stuffed her at once, stretching her cheeks out to far more than their normal volume with the sheer amount of fruits they jammed in. Belly-donna had some effort to swallow all of them, and the dwarves were ready with even more to replace them. Being fed like that was always a joy to any hobbit, and Belly-donna rubbed her bulged and bloating belly with one hand while she played with herself with the other. Treater stopped her stuffing of the hobbit and locked her lips onto Ms. Big’uns’s nipple, suckling on it and licking the fruit juice running down her body. Quickly, Glut joined Treater, licking off the other tit before latching onto that nipple and nibbling at it, making Belly-donna shriek in ecstasy. Finally, the stuffing tapered off, and eventually the two dwarves moved off her tits, and she let her hand stop, just laying there panting from the sex.  
     Of course, being well-stuffed for the first time in many days, and safe too, the rest of the party felt the need for some relaxation and release too. They all were naked anyway, so they fell into each other, groping and fondling and, yes, still stuffing each others’ mouths with both huge handfuls of the succulent fruits and their tits and nipples. The receivers eagerly sucked on whatever was put in their mouths, swallowing the juicy fruits, and licking and nibbling on the nipples, bringing painful pleasure to the owners. Before long, the licking and sucking moved from tits to pussies, and the various dwarves, and Belly-donna, and even Lardass shoved tongues inside pussies even as other tongues were shoved in their own.  
     Eventually, the orgy settled around a single main character again. This time, it was Lardass, with her gigantic breasts, bulging belly, and truly massive butt. She lay nude on the grass with all the dwarves and Ms. Big’uns clustered around her. As before, one dwarf dove into her pussy, three licked at her full and enlarged belly, one sat on her face to get her own pleasure, two more dropped onto her hands, and two drove her toes into their pussies. But this time, two tended to each tit; they were massive enough for one to suckle on a nipple while another licked at the underside where it joined her body. Belly-donna took it on herself to climb right between Lardass’s gigantic tits to lick all up and down her cavernous cleavage. The five getting pleasure from Lardass’s mouth, hands and feet leaned out to use their own hands on the others, and those who were using their mouths on Lardass used their hands on themselves, driving fingers into their own pussies, until the whole party exploded in a colossal shared multi-orgasm. Exhausted by the massive gang-bang of the wizard, they all collapsed into a dazed stupor.  
     So ended the adventures of the Meaty Mountains. Soon Belly-donna’s stomach was feeling full and comfortable again, and she felt she could sleep contentedly, though really she would have liked many loaves drowning with butter better than just fruits, however many she had. She slept curled up on the hard ground more soundly than ever she had done on her feather-bed in her own little hole at home. But all night she dreamed of her own house and wandered in her sleep into all her different rooms looking for some particular dish that she could not find, though she ate everything else she found, ending her dream round, full, and immobile again. 


	7. More Feedings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having escaped the goblins, the party take shelter with Big-one, a fearsome enemy, but a good friend and feeder.

     The next morning Belly-donna woke up with the early sun in her eyes. She jumped up to look at the time and to go and put her kettle on-- and found she was not home at all. So she sat down and wished in vain for a wash and a brush. She did not get either, nor tea nor toast nor bacon for her breakfast, only more of the fruit; but there was still half an orchard’s worth, so that was something. And after that she had to get ready for a fresh start.  
     Lardass turned them towards the river, and made for a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants, that cropped out of the ground right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it.  
     As quick as they could, the party made for this rock. There was a flat space on the top of the hill of stone and a well worn path with many steps leading down the it to the river, across which a ford of huge flat stones led to the grasslands beyond the stream. There was a little cave (a wholesome one with a pebbly floor) at the foot of the steps near the end of the stony ford. Here the party gathered and discussed what was to be done.  
     “I always meant to see you all safe (if possible) and well-fed over the mountain,” said the wizard, “and now by good management and good luck I have done it. Indeed we are now a good deal further east than I ever meant to come with you, for after all this is not my adventure. I may look in on it again before it is all over, but in the meanwhile I have some other pressing business to attend to.”  
     The dwarves groaned and looked most distressed, and Belly-donna wept. They had begun to think Lardass was going to come all the way and would always be there to help them out of difficulties and food-shortages. “I am not going to disappear this very instant,” said she. “I can give you a day or two more. Probably I can help you out of your present plight, and I need a little help myself. We have no food left, and no baggage, and no ponies to ride; and you don’t know where you are. Now I can tell you that. You are still some miles north of the path which we should have been following, if we had not left the mountain pass in a hurry. Very few people live in these parts, unless they have come here since I was last down this way, which is some years ago. But there is somebody that I know of, who lives not far away. That Somebody made the steps on the great rock- the Paunch-rock I believe she calls it. She does not come here often, certainly not in the daytime, and it is no good waiting for her. In fact it would be very dangerous. We must go and find her; and if all goes well at our meeting, I think I shall be off and wish you ‘farewell wherever you fare!’ “  
     They begged her not to leave them. They offered her dragon-meat, and pastries, and casseroles. They even offered the pleasure of their bodies, but she would not change her mind.  
     “We shall see, we shall see!” she said, “and I think I have already earned some of your food-treasure -- when you have got it.”  
     After that they stopped pleading. Then they bathed in the river, which was shallow and clear and stony at the ford. When they had dried in the sun, which was now strong and warm, they were refreshed, if still sore and hungry even after their massive orchard-breakfast. Soon they crossed the ford (carrying the hobbit), and then began to march through the long green grass and down the lines of the wide-armed oaks and the tall elms.  
     “And why is it called the Paunch-rock?” asked Belly-donna as she went along at the wizard’s side.  
     “She calls it the Paunch-rock, because it looks like a huge belly-paunch rising up from the river, as you saw, and this one is _the_ Paunch-rock because it is the only one near her home and she knows it well.”  
     “Who calls it? Who knows it?”  
     “The Somebody I spoke of-- a very great person. You must all be very polite when I introduce you. I shall introduce you slowly, two by two, I think; and you must be careful not to annoy her, or heaven knows what will happen. She can be appalling when she is angry, though she is kind enough if humored. Still I warn you she gets angry easily.”  
     The dwarves all gathered round when they heard the wizard like this to Belly-donna. “Is that the person you are taking us to now?” they asked. “Couldn’t you find someone more easy-tempered? Hadn’t you better explain it all a bit clearer?” - and so on.  
     “Yes it certainly is! No I could not! And I was explaining very carefully,” answered the wizard crossly. “If you must know more, her name if Big-one. She is very massive, and she is a skin-changer.”  
     “What! A furrier, a woman that calls rabbits conies, when she doesn’t turn their skins into squirrels?” asked Belly-donna.  
     “Good gracious heavens, no, no, NO, NO!” said Lardass. “Don’t be a fool Ms. Big’uns if you can help it; and in the name of all gluttony don’t mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of her house, nor rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word! She is a skin-changer. She changes her skin; sometimes she is a huge fat pig, sometime she is a great blimp of a woman with huge breasts and a giant belly. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough. Some say that she is a pig descended from the great and ancient swine of the mountains that lived there before the giants came. Others say she is a woman descended from the first men who lived before Scarf-down and the other dragons came into this part of the world, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I cannot say, though I fancy the last is the true tale. She is not the sort of person to ask questions of.  
     “At any rate, she is under no enchantment but her own. She lives in an oak-wood and has a great wooden house; and as a woman she keeps cattle and horses which are nearly as fat as herself. They work for her and talk to her. She does not eat them; neither does she hunt or eat wild animals. She keeps hives and hives of great fierce bees, and lives most on cream and honey. As a pig she ranges far and wide. I once saw her sitting all alone on the top of the Paunch-rock at night watching the moon sinking towards the Meaty Mountains, and I heard her squeal in the tongue of pigs: ‘The day will come when they will perish and I shall go back!’ That is why I believe she once came from the mountains herself.”  
     Belly-donna and the dwarves had now plenty to think about, and they asked no more questions. They still had a long way to walk before them. Up slope and down dale they plodded. It grew very hot. Sometimes they rested under trees, and then Belly-donna felt so hungry she would have eaten acorns, if any had been ripe enough yet to have fallen to the ground.  
     It was the middle of the afternoon before they noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. And such bees! Belly-donna had never seen anything like them.  
     “If one was to sting me,” she thought, “I should swell up as big again as I am!”  
     They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold.  
     “We are getting near,” said Lardass. “We are on the edge of her bee-pastures.”  
     After a while they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble.  
     “You had better wait here,” said the wizard to the dwarves, “and when I call or whistle begin to come after me -- you will see the way I go -- but only in pairs, mind, about five minutes between each pair of you. Bom-berry is still the fattest (besides Ms. Big’uns) and will do for two, she had better come alone and last. Come along Ms. Big’uns! There is a gate somewhere round this way.” And with that she went off along the hedge taking the frightened hobbit with her.  
     They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, wide enough for even the hobbit to squeeze through, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs; barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house.  
     Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled the air.  
     The wizard and the hobbit pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very fat and well-fed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.  
     “They have gone to tell her of the arrival of strangers, “said Lardass.  
     Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great cooking-pit with many roasting fruits and vegetables on it. Standing near was a huge woman with long black hair, and great flabby arms and legs knotted with muscle to hold up her enormously fat body. She was clothed in a tunic of wool down to her knees, and was holding a huge spatula.  
     The horses were standing by her with the noses at her shoulder.  
     “Ugh! here they are!” she said to the horses. “They don’t look dangerous. You can be off!” She laughed a great rolling laugh, put down her spatula and came forward.  
     “Who are you and what do you want?” she asked gruffly, standing in front of them and spreading out wider than Lardass and Belly-donna both.  
     As for Belly-donna herself, she could have trotted through her legs without ducking her head to miss the fringe of the woman’s brown tunic; though she would have had a time squeezing between her thighs, their wide girth pressing them together tightly along their whole length.  
     “I am Lardass,” said the wizard.  
     “Never heard of her,” growled the woman, “And what’s this little lady?” she said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with her pudgy round face.  
     “That is Ms. Big’uns, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation at table,” said Lardass. Belly-donna bowed, as best she could with her prodigious belly in front of her. She had not dress to curtsy, and was painfully conscious of her nakedness. “I am a wizard,” continued Lardass. “I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my good cousin Eat-a-mass who lives near the Southern borders of Gorge-wood?”  
     “Yes; not a bad lady as wizards go, I believe. I used to dine, and dine well, with her now and again,” said Big-one. “Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?”  
     “To tell the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains.”  
     “Goblins?” said the big woman less gruffly. “O ho, so you’ve been having trouble with them have you? What did you go near them for?”  
     “We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross. We were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries- It is a long tale.”  
     “Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won’t take all day,” said the woman, leading the way through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house.  
     Following her they found themselves in a wide hall with a fire-place in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of a way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it. Big-one took time to gather a massive meal and Belly-donna, always eager to eat, hoped she would share with them. They came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps.  
     Here they sat on wooden benches while Lardass began her tale, and Belly-donna swung her dangling legs and looked longingly at the sizable feast that Big-one was eating as she listened, though she offered none to either of them.  
     “I was coming over the mountains with a friend or two…” said the wizard.  
     “Or two? I can see only one, though she’s truly immense enough for two,” said Big-one.  
     “Well to tell you the truth, I did not like to bother you with a lot of us, until I found out if you were busy. I will give a call, if I may.”  
     “Go on, call away!”  
     So Lardass gave a long shrill whistle, and presently More-in and Treater came round the house by the garden path and stood bowing low before them.  
     “One or three you meant, I see!” Said Big-one. “But these aren’t hobbits, they are dwarves!”  
     “More-in Oakenbowl, at your service! Treater at your service!” said the two dwarves.  
     “I don’t need your service, thank you,” said Big-one, “but I expect you need mine. I am not over fond of dwarves; but if it is true you are More-in (daughter of Gain, daughter of Forker, I believe) and that your companion is respectable, and that you are enemies of the goblins and are not up to any mischief in my lands- what are you up to, by the way?”  
     “They are on their way to visit the land of their mothers, away east beyond Gorge-wood,” put in Lardass, “and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. We were crossing by the High Pass that should have brought us to the road that lies to the south of your country, when we were attacked by the evil goblins- as I was about to tell you.”  
     “Go on telling, then!” said Big-one, who was never very polite.  
     “There was a terrible storm; and the feeding-giants were out stuffing each other, and at the head of the pass we took refuge in a cave, the hobbit and I and several of our companions…”  
     “Do you call two several, even two as fat as these?”  
     “Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two.”  
     “Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?” she asked around a huge mouthful of food.  
     “Well, no. They don’t seem to have come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain and feed.”  
     “Go on, whistle again! I am in for a party, it seems, and one or two more won’t make much difference,” growled Big-one.  
     Lardass whistled again; but Feeder and Eater were there almost before she had stopped, for, if you remember, Lardass had told them to come in pairs every five minutes.  
     “Hullo!” said Big-one. “You came pretty quick- where were you hiding? Come on my jack-in-the-boxes!”  
     “Feeder at your service, Eater at…” they began; but Big-one interrupted them.  
     “Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let’s get on with this tale, or it will be supper-time before it is ended.” And she munched more of the food she had as she spoke of another meal to come.  
     “As soon as we were asleep,” went on Lardass, “a crack at the back of the cave opened; goblins came out and grabbed the hobbit and the dwarves and our troop of ponies--”  
     “Troop of ponies? What were you- a traveling catering service? Or were you carrying more food than I’d expect from even you lot of fatties? Or do you always call six a troop?”  
     “O no! As a matter of fact there were more than just six ponies, for there were more than six of us- and well, here are two more!” Just at that moment Balloon and D’widen appeared and bowed so low that their bellies and bosoms swept the stone floor. The big woman was frowning at first, but they did their very best to be frightfully polite, and kept on nodding and bending and bowing over their bellies (in proper dwarf-fashion), till she stopped frowning and burst into a chuckling laugh; they looked to comical.  
     “Troop was right,” she said. “A fine comic one. Come my merry lasses, and what are your names? I don’t want your service just now, only your names; and then sit down and stop jiggling!”  
     “Balloon and D’widen,” they said not daring to be offended, and sat flop on the floor looking rather surprised, and famished.  
     “Now go on again!” Said Big-one to the wizard.  
     “Where was I? O yes-- I was _not_ grabbed. I killed a goblin or two with a flash, and ate them up-”  
     “Good!” growled Big-one. “It is some good being a wizard, then.”  
“- and slipped inside the crack before it closed. I followed down into the main hall, which was crowded with goblins. The Great Goblin was there with thirty or forty armed guards. I thought to myself ‘even if they were not chained together, what can a dozen do against so many?’ “  
     “A dozen! That’s the first time I’ve heard eight called a dozen. Or have you still got some more jacks that haven’t yet come out of their boxes?”  
     “Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now - Feedee and Foodie, I believe,” said Lardass, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing.  
     “That’s enough!” Said Big-one. “Sit and and be quiet! Now go on, Lardass!”  
     So Lardass went on with the tale, until she came to the fight in the dark, the discovery of the lower gate, and their horror when they found that Ms. Big’uns had been mislaid.  
     “We counted ourselves and found that there was no hobbit. There were only fourteen of us left!”  
     “Fourteen! That’s the first time I’ve heard one from ten leave fourteen. You mean nine, or else you haven’t told me yet all the names of your party.”  
     “Well, of course you haven’t seen Gut and Glut yet. And, bless me! here they are. I hope you will forgive them for bothering you.”  
     “O let ‘em all come! Hurry up! Come along, you two, and sit down! But look here, Lardass, even now we have only got yourself and ten dwarves and the hobbit that was lost. That only makes eleven (plus one mislaid) and not fourteen, unless wizards count differently to other people. But now please get on with the tale.” Big-one did not show it more than she could help, but really she had begun to get very interested. You see, in the old days she had known the very part of the mountains that Lardass was describing. She nodded and she growled, when she heard of the hobbit’s reappearance and of their scramble down the stone-slide and of the wolf-ring in the woods. When Lardass came to their climbing into trees with the wolves all underneath, She got up and strode about and muttered:  
     “I wish I had been there! I would have eaten them myself, and not left it to them!”  
“Well,” said Lardass, very glad to see that her tale was making a good impression, “I did the best I could. There we were with the wolves going mad underneath us, when the goblins came down from the hills and discovered us. They yelled with delight and sang songs making fun of us. _Fifteen birds in five fir-trees…_ ”  
     “Good heavens!” growled Big-one. “Don’t pretend that goblins can’t count. They can, especially when tallying up people to eat. Twelve isn’t fifteen and they know it.”  
     “And so do I. There were Bigger and Blogger as well. I haven’t ventured to introduce them before, but here they are.”  
     In came Bigger and Blogger. “And me!” gasped Bom-berry pulling up behind. She was fat, and bloated slightly and a darker blue than usual, and also angry at being left till last. She refused to wait five minutes, and followed immediately after the other two.  
     “Well, now there are fifteen of you; and since goblins can count, I suppose that is all that there were up the trees. Now perhaps we can finish this story without any more interruptions.” Ms. Big’uns saw then how clever Lardass had been. The interruptions had really made Big-one more interested in the story, and the story had kept her from sending the dwarves off at once like suspicious hungry beggars. She never invited people into her house, if she could help it. She had very few friends and they lived a good way away; and she never invited more than a couple of these to dinner at her house at a time. She preferred not to share her food overmuch. Now she had got fifteen strangers sitting in her porch, expecting a good supper!  
     By the time the wizard had finished her tale and had told of her inflation of them all to float away to the Paunch-rock, the sun had fallen behind the peaks of the Meaty Mountains and the shadows were long in Big-one’s garden.  
     “A very good tale!” said she. “The best I have heard for a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. Let’s all have something to eat!”  
     “Yes, please!” they all said together. “Thank you very much!”  
     Inside the hall it was now quite dark. Big-one clapped her hands, and in trotted four beautiful fat white ponies and several large big-bodied gray dogs. Big-one said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth.  
     The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their fore-feet. Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the side walls and set them up near the fire.  
     Then baa-baa-baa! was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a large coal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their wide backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle tables. These were very low, low enough even for Belly-donna to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with very wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Lardass and More-in, while at the far end he put Big-one’s big black chair of the same sort (in which she sat with her great legs stuck far out under the table, taking up the whole width of the table). These were all the chairs she had in her hall, and she probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on her. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Belly-donna; so soon they were all seated at Big-one’s table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year.  
     There they had a supper, and a huge one, such as they had not had since they left the Last Stuffing House in the West and said good-bye to Enedrond, enough even to satisfy the hunger they had all borne since their feasting battle with the goblins. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. All the time they ate (and a very long time it was), stuffing themselves and blowing their bellies up as tight as tight, Big-one told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, without missing a bite of her own gigantic feast, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day’s ride before them, barring their way to the East, the strange forest of Gorge-wood.  
     The dwarves listened even as the stuffed their mouths fuller than ever, so fast that they made their swelling bellies and bloated bosoms quiver with the speed, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon’s stronghold. When dinner was finally over they began to tell tales of their own, but Big-one seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them. They spoke most of appetizers and meat and desserts and the making of meals by chef-craft, and Big-one did not appear to care for such things: there were no meats in her hall, and most of the foods she had were raw and natural, right from the plants that bore them.  
     They sat long at the table with their wooden drinking-bowls filled with mead, and their platters continually refilled with more and yet more food. They ate on and on, and began to feed and stuff each other. The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were put out, and still they sat in the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, arid dark at the top like trees of the forest. The dwarves gradually went from feeding to fondling, and included Belly-donna happily in their games. Whether it was magic or not, it seemed to Belly-donna that she heard a sound like many mouths munching away, and the sound of swallowing too. Soon she began to nod with sleep, with food still in her hands on its way to her mouth, and the dwarves still fingering her, and the voices and groping hands seemed to grow far away, until she woke with a start.  
     The great door had creaked and slammed. Big-one was gone. The dwarves were sitting on the floor, legs wide and their newly packed bellies spreading out between their legs. Several of the dwarves, most especially Bom-berry and Feedee, displaying bellies huge enough to cover over their legs with just their feet poking out the edges. Belly-donna was bigger yet, with a stomach completely covering her legs and pushing her to lean back on her hands, giving even more room for her impossibly distended belly, and still it swelled out to cover her leg and feet totally.  
Feeling safe for the first time in many days, and well and truly stuffed with much good and filling food, the dwarves lounged around the hall. Slowly, they began to pair up, to release some of the tension built up over the last days. Feedee and Feeder; Balloon and Eater; Treater and Foodie; Gut and Bigger; Glut and Blogger; Bom-berry and D’widen; and More-in started a threesome with Lardass and Belly-donna both.  
     All the pairs happily fingered and ate each other, licked all over each others’ bodies, cleaning up any food scraps or drops of mead that were gathered glistening on flesh. Indeed a few of them sought more food and mead to pour over each other, to eat it off. One or two of them actually stuffed the food inside each other, to literally eat them out. All manner of food and sex was enjoyed by the dwarves, the wizard, and the hobbit. Just now, we need to continue our tale, so I must leave it to your fancy to think on all their tricks and treats.  
     Presently, they began to sing. Some of the verses were like this, but there were many more, and their singing went on for a long while:

> _The food was not in homestead laid,_  
>  _but gathered in every forest glade:_  
>  _there to invite by day and night,_  
>  _and so to catch the man and maid._  
>  _The food gathered from far and near,_  
>  _like a tide sweeps o’er the pier;_  
>  _and ‘neath the load, the table groaned,_  
>  _waiting for those who draw too near._  
>  _The food went on from West to East;_  
>  _resistance ended for the feast_  
>  _and those who fall will eat it all;_  
>  _never again will eating cease._  
>  _The spell was cast, to stomach’s roar_  
>  _insatiable-and on it bore_  
>  _to forest’s food, no matter mood_  
>  _All comers eat forevermore._  
>  _And to the lonely Mountain there_  
>  _and too enspelled the dragon’s lair:_  
>  _there filled and packed with foods all stacked_  
>  _in piles rich beyond compare._  
>  _The meal can last to the world’s end_  
>  _endlessly will bellies distend._  
>  _To eat and feast, to never cease_  
>  _to meet a last explosive end_

     Belly-donna began to nod again. Suddenly up stood Lardass. “It is time for us to sleep,” she said, “-for us, but not I think for Big-one. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, and well-fed, but I warn you all not to forget what Big-one said before she left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril.”  
     Belly-donna found that beds had already been laid at the side of the hall, on a sort of raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. For her there was a very wide mattress of straw and woollen blankets. She snuggled into them very gladly, summertime though it was. The fire burned low and she fell asleep. Yet in the night she woke: the fire had now sunk to a few embers; the dwarves and Lardass were all asleep, to judge by their breathing; a splash of white on the floor came from the high moon, which was peering down through the smoke-hole in the roof.  
     There was a squealing sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal snuffling at the door. Belly-donna wondered what it was, and whether it could be Big-one in enchanted shape, and it she would come in as a pig and eat them.  
     She ate and ate for a long while to relax her mind, stuffing herself with one hand while her other rubbed all over her bloated and tightening domed belly, her ballooned tits, and often slipping underneath her huge stomach to dig inside her pussy, then she dived under the blankets and hid her head, and fell asleep again, tired from her culinary and masturbatory exertions, in spite of her fears.  
     It was full morning when she awoke. One of the dwarves had fallen over her in the shadows where she lay, and had rolled down with a bump from the platform on to the floor. It was Blogger, and she was grumbling about it, already on her smartphone to post it, when Belly-donna opened her eyes.  
     “Get up lazybones,” she said, “or there will be no breakfast left for you.”  
     Up jumped Belly-donna. “Breakfast!” she cried. “Where is breakfast?”  
     “Mostly inside us,” answered the other dwarves who were waddling around the hall, stuffed as full as they had ever been; “but what is left is out on the veranda. We have been about looking for Big-one ever since the sun got up; but there is no sign of her anywhere, though we found breakfast laid as soon as we went out.”  
     Belly-donna knew that the breakfast would have distracted the dwarves from searching for quite a long time and smiled to herself. “Where is Lardass?” she asked, moving off to find something to eat as quick as she could.  
     “O! out and about somewhere,” they told her. But she saw no sign of the wizard all that day until the evening. Just before sunset she walked into the hall, where the hobbit and the dwarves were having supper, waited on by Big-one’s wonderful animals, as they had been all day. Indeed, they had hardly gotten up from the table, eating non-stop the whole day long. Of Big-one they had seen and heard nothing since the night before, and they were getting puzzled.  
     “Where is our hostess, and where have you been all day yourself?” they all mumbled around still-packed mouths.  
     “One question at a time, and none till after supper! I’ve barely had fifteen or twenty pounds of food since breakfast.”  
     At long last, Lardass pushed away her plate and jug-- she had eaten fifteen whole loaves (with gigantic masses of butter and honey and clotted cream) and drunk at least three gallons of mead. “I will answer the second question first,” she said, “but bless me! this is a splendid buffet!” Indeed for a long time more they could get nothing out of her, she was so busy stuffing herself further.  
     “I have been picking out pig-tracks,” she said at last. “There must have been a regular pigs’ meeting outside here last night. I soon saw the Big-one could not have made them all: there were far too many of them, and they were of various sizes too. I should say there were little pigs, large pigs, ordinary pigs, and gigantic big pigs, all rooting and eating from dark to nearly dawn. They came from almost every direction, except from the west over the river, from the Mountains. In that direction only one set of footprints led-- none coming, only ones going away from here.  
     “I followed these as far as the Paunch-rock. There they disappeared into the river, but the water was too deep and strong beyond the rock for me to cross. It is easy enough, as you remember to get from this bank to the Paunch-rock by the ford, but on the other side is a cliff standing up from a swirling channel. I had to walk for miles, eating on foot to keep my strength up, before I found a place where the river was wide and shallow enough for me to wade and swim, and then miles back again, eating more, to pick up the tracks again. By that time it was too late for me to follow them far, and I was getting quite full anyway. They went straight off in the direction of the pine-woods on the east side of the Meaty Mountains, where we had our pleasant little party with the Wolfers the night before last. And now I think I have answered your first question, too,” ended Lardass, and she sat a long while silent, feeding her face again.  
     Belly-donna thought she knew what the wizard meant. “What shall we do,” she cried, “if she leads all the Wolfers and the goblins down here? We shall all be caught and eaten up! I thought you said she was not a friend of theirs.”  
     “So I did. And don’t be silly! You had better stuff yourself some more, your wits are starving.”  
     The hobbit felt quite crushed, and of course, she went to the buffet and her fill (which as you remember, was considerable); and while the dwarves were still singing songs she dropped asleep, tired out from her all-day stuffing efforts, still puzzling her stuffed head about Big-one, till she dreamed a dream of hundreds of pigs rooting and eating and eating and eating in the moonlight in the courtyard. Then she woke up when everyone else was asleep, and she heard seme scraping, snuffling, and squealing as before. Next morning they were all wakened by Big-one herself.  
     “So here you all are still!” she said. She poked the hobbit’s enormous belly and laughed: “Not eaten up by Wolfers or goblins or wicked sows yet I see”; and she grabbed Ms. Big’uns’s breasts most disrespectfully. “Little piggy is getting nice and fat on bread and honey,” she chuckled. “Come and have some more!”  
     So they all went to breakfast with her. Big-one was most jolly for a change; indeed she seemed to be in a splendidly good humor and set them all laughing with her funny stories; nor did they have to wonder long where she had been or why she was so nice to them, for she told them herself. She had been over the river and right back up into the mountains-- from which you can guess that she could travel quickly, in pig-shape at any rate. From the burnt wolf-glade she had soon found out that part of their story was true; but she had found more than that: she had caught a Wolfer and a goblin wandering in the woods. From these she had got news: the goblin patrols were still hunting with Wolfers for the dwarves, and they were fiercely angry because of the popping of the Great Goblin’s belly, and also because of the eating of the chief wolf and many of her chief servants by those wolves enchanted by Lardass. So much they told her when she forced them, but she guessed there was more wickedness than this afoot, and that a great raid of the whole goblin army with their wolf-allies into the lands shadowed by the mountains might soon be made to find the dwarves, or to take vengeance on the men and creatures that lived there, and who they thought must be sheltering and feeding them.  
     “It as a good story, that of yours,” said Big-one, “but I like it still better now I am sure it is true. You must forgive my not taking your word. If you lived near the edge of Gorge-wood, you would take the word of no one that you did not know as well as your sister or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were well-fed, and to offer you any help that I can. I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this. Popped the Great Goblin, popped the Great Goblin!” she chuckled fiercely to herself.  
     “What did you do with the goblin and the Wolfer?” asked Belly-donna suddenly.  
     “What do you think?” said Big-one, patting her massively stuffed and taut belly. Big-one was a fierce and hungry enemy. But now she was their friend, and Lardass thought it wise to tell her their whole story and the reason of their journey, so that they could get the most help she could offer.  
     Now quite pleased with the dwarves and their deeds in the mountains, Big-one was only too happy to take part in their feeding and sex games. Indeed, she invited the dwarves to play with her quite openly. Always eager to explore a new fattened body, the dwarves quickly began to climb over Big-one’s prone body, groping and digging into her folds. She was fat enough for three dwarves to team up on each of her gigantically bloated tits, licking and sucking the nipples. Her massive belly was gargantuan, if you recall, and three more dwarves crawled actually through the folds and recesses of her fat, pulling groans of pleasure from her, and from themselves too. Another dwarf licked and fondled her deep, deep bellybutton. As on their prior orgies, one dwarf each planted themselves on her hands and feet, pistoning up and down on them as they fondled and rubbed their own tits and bellies. Lardass planted herself on Big-one’s face, and Big-one feverishly dug her tongue deep into Lardass’s pussy.  
     And what of Belly-donna? She acted on her wish upon meeting Big-one, and dug her way through the woman’s elephantine thighs, seeking out her juicy slit. Once she found it, she pushed both her hands in, rubbing the tender flesh and spreading it wide to fit her whole head inside, spelunking to find the woman’s swollen clit. Once there, she sucked on the massive nib as she might a penis. Even with the muffling of Lardass on her face, and Belly-donna’s head engulfed by Big-one’s pussy, our hobbit could still hear Big-one’s screams of pleasure, and she nearly drowned in the deluge of her huge orgasm.  
     Big-one’s flailing and writhing in her own massive series of many orgasms quickly threw the four dwarves on her hand and feet into their own climaxes, and the vibrations of her screaming gave four or five to Lardass. Two of the dwarves on her tits had actually sat atop her nipples, driving them into themselves, and using them as dildos. For the eight dwarves who were licking and rubbing her tits and belly, once Big-one, Lardass, and the six dwarves had finished, they pulled Belly-donna out from between Big-one’s tight thighs, and they licked all of Big-one’s cum off of the hobbit, of course, suckling on her nipples, and licking inside her own pussy, before taking similar care of each other, rubbing, licking, and fingering themselves to a screaming climax as well.  
     This is what Big-one promised to do for them, laying in a tangle of sweat-sheened tits, bellies, and limbs, basking in the afterglow of truly incredible sex. She would provide clothing (though, as she said, it seemed a shame to cover up such bulging and sexy bodies) and ponies for each of them, and a horse for Lardass, for their journey to the forest, and she would lade them with food to last them for weeks, and packed so as to be as easy as possible to carry- nuts, flour, sealed jars of dried fruits, and red earthenware pots of honey, and twice-baked cakes that would stuff their bellies well and truly on just a few bites. The making of them was one of her secrets: but honey was in them, as in most of her foods, and they were good to eat, and had an exceptional amount of calories in each one. Water, she said, they would not need to carry this side of the forest, for there were streams and springs along the road. “But your way through Gorge-wood is dangerous and difficult,” she said. “Water is not easy to find there. The time is not yet come for nuts (though it may be past and gone indeed before you get to the other side), and nuts are about all that grows there safe to eat. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and I will give you bows and arrows. But I doubt very much whether anything you find in Gorge-wood will be wholesome to eat or to drink. There is one stream there, I know, black and strong which crosses the path. That you should neither drink of, nor bathe in: for I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great hunger. And in the dim shadows of that place I don’t think you will shoot anything that you can eat, wholesome or unwholesome, without straying from the path. That you MUST NOT do, for any reason. That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house, and my pantry, are open to you, if ever you come back this way again.”  
     They thanked her, of course, with many bows and sweepings of their hoods and with many an “at your service, O mistress of pleasure and well-stocked wooden tables!” But their spirits sank at her grave words, and they all felt that the adventure was far more dangerous than they had though, while all the time, even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was waiting at the end.  
     All that morning they were busy with preparations. Soon after midday they ate with Big-one for the last time, and after the enormous meal, stretching their bellies wide and full and taut, they mounted the steeds she was lending them, and bidding her many farewells they rode off through her gates at a good pace.  
     As soon as they left her high hedges at the east of her fenced lands they turned north and then bore to the north-west. By her advice they were no longer making for the main forest-road to the south of her land, Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them down the stream from the mountains that joined the great river miles south of the Paunch-rock. At that point there was a deep ford which they might have passed, if they had still had their ponies, and beyond that a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road. But Big-one had warned them that that way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest-road itself, she had heard, was overgrown and disused at the eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its eastern opening had also always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain, and would have left them still with a long and difficult northward march when the got to the other side.  
     North of the Paunch-rock the edge of Gorge-wood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew down nearer, Big-one advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days’ ride due north of the Paunch-rock was the gate of a little-known pathway through Gorge-wood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain.  
     "The goblins,” Big-one had said, “will not dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of the Paunch-rock nor to come near my house -- it is well protected at night! -- but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wolfers run swifter than ponies. Still you are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!”  
     That is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to think of pursuing goblins behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Big-one’s house they began to talk and to sing and to stuff themselves again and to forget the dark forest-path that lay in front. But in the evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily after their massive supper stretched their bellies again huge. Still the next morning dawned bright and fair again.  
     There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again, after a huge breakfast to prepare them for their long ride. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Belly-donna saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first she thought they were the dead branches of trees. That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Big-one had said that they should reach the forest-gate early on the fourth day, that they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon, before they finally made camp and ate a larger meal than ever they had before, to make up for the delay. As the light faded, and the whole party devoured their gigantic repast, Belly-donna thought she saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great pig prowling along in the same direction. But if she dared to mention it to Lardass, the wizard only said: “Hush! Take no notice, and keep stuffing your face and fingering your pussy!”  
     Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short, and their sleep shorter yet due to the long meal they downed. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Gorge-wood, and were resting almost beneath the overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground.  
     “Well, here is Gorge-wood!” said Lardass. “The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it. Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed.”  
     The dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. “Big-one is not as far off as you seem to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for she is a bad enemy. Ms. Big’uns’s eyes are sharper than yours, if you have not seen each night after dark a great pig going along with us or sitting far off in the moon watching our camps. Not only to guard you and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Big-one may be your friend, but she loves her animals as her children. You do not guess what kindness she has shown you in letting dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor what would happen to you, if you tried to take them into the forest.”  
     “What about the horse, then?” said More-in. “You don’t mention sending that back.”  
     “I don’t, because I am not sending it.”  
     “What about your promise then?”  
     “I will look after that. I am not sending the horse back, I am riding it! I have a mind to partake of Big-one’s hospitality again.”  
     Then they knew that Lardass was going to leave them at the very edge of Gorge-wood, and they were in despair and jealousy of Lardass feeding and fucking with Big-one again.  
     But nothing they could say would change her mind.  
     “Now we had this all out before, when we were at the Paunch-rock,” she said. “It is no use arguing. I have, as I told you, some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you fat-asses. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not. That depends on your luck and on your courage and sense; and I am sending Ms. Big’uns with you. I have told you before that she has more about her than you guess, and you will find that out before long. So cheer up, Belly-donna, and don’t look so glum. Cheer up More-in and company! This is your expedition after all. Think of the food at the end, and forget the forest and the dragon, at any rate until tomorrow morning!”  
     When tomorrow morning came she still said the same.  
     So now there was nothing left to do but fill their water-skins at a clear spring they found close to the forest-gate, and unpack the ponies. They distributed the packages as fairly as they could, though Belly-donna thought her lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the idea of trudging for miles and miles with all that on her back, food supplies though they were.  
     “Don’t you worry!” said More-in. “It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs were heavier, as we eat our way through the forest.”  
     Then at last they said good-bye to their ponies and turned their heads for home. Off they trotted gaily, seeming very glad to put their tails toward the shadow of Gorge-wood. As they went away Belly-donna could have sworn that a thing like a pig left the shadow of the trees and snuffled off quickly after them.  
     Now Lardass too said farewell. Belly-donna sat on the ground feeling very unhappy and wishing she was beside the wizard on her tall horse. She had gone just inside the forest after breakfast (a very tremendous one, too), and it had seemed as dark in there in the morning as at night, and very secret: “a sort of watching and waiting feeling,” she said to herself.  
     “Good-bye!” said Lardass to More-in. “And good-bye to you all, good-bye! Straight through the forest is your way now. Don’t stray off the track! If you do, it is a thousand to one you will never find it again and never get out of Gorge-wood; and then I don’t suppose I, or any one else, will ever see you again.”  
     “Do we really have to go through? “groaned the hobbit, past a full mouth of pastries. She was trying to eat away her nervousness and fear, and though it did not work in the least, she kept trying.  
     “Yes, you do!” said the wizard, “if you want to get to the other side. You must either go through or give up your quest. And I am not going to allow you to back out now, Ms. Big’uns. I am ashamed of you for thinking it. You have got to look after all these dwarves for me,” she laughed.  
     “No! no!” said Belly-donna. “I didn’t mean that. I meant, is there no way round?”  
     “There is, if you care to go two hundred miles or so out of your way north, and twice that south. But you wouldn’t get a safe path even then. There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go. Before you could get round Gorge-wood in the North you would be right among the slopes of the Grey Mountains, and they are simply stuffed with goblins, hobgoblins, and the rest of the worst description. Before you could get round it in the South, you would get into the land of the Gastronomist; and even you, Belly-donna, won’t need me to tell you tales of that relentless feeder. I don’t advise you to go anywhere near the places overlooked by her towering kitchens! Stick to the forest-track, keep your bellies stuffed, hope for the best, and with a tremendous slice of luck you may come out one day and see the Long Marshes lying below you, and beyond them, high in the East, the Lonely Mountain where dear old Scarf-down lives, though I hope she is not expecting you.”  
     “Very comforting you are to be sure,” growled More-in. “Good-bye! If you won’t come with us, you had better get off without any more talk!”  
     “Good-bye then, and really good-bye!” said Lardass, and she turned her horse and rode down into the West. But she could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before she had passed quite out of hearing she turned and put her hands to her mouth and called to them. They heard her voice faintly: “Good-bye! Be full, take care of your bellies-and DON’T LEAVE THE PATH!”  
     Then she galloped away and was soon lost to sight. “O good-bye and go away!” grunted the dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing her. Now began the most dangerous part of all the journey.  
     They each shouldered the heavy pack and the water-skin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest. 


	8. Foods and Swellings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into Gorge-wood. The magic of the forest nearly overcomes the dwarves and the hobbit, but they manage to resist.

     They walked in single file. The entrance to the path was like a sort of arch leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves. The path itself was wide, much wider than the dwarves’ (and even Ms. Big’uns’s) extensive girth. Soon the light at the gate was like a little bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened. As their eyes became used to the dimness they could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip in through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them. But this was seldom, and it soon ceased altogether.  
     There were black squirrels in the wood, massively fat things that could barely climb the trees. As Belly-donna’s sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things she could catch glimpses of them waddling off the path and lumbering behind tree-trunks, chewing and eating each and every moment. There were queer noises too, grunts, chewings, and swallowings in the undergrowth, and among the leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in places on the forest-floor; but what made the noises she could not guess. The oddest things they saw were the fruits borne by the trees; massive, juicy-looking fruits unlike any they had ever seen. The fruits hung high in the trees, far off the path. They still remembered Big-one’s and Lardass’s warnings, and didn’t dare leave the path to get them.  
     If was not long before they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated the tunnels of the goblins, and it seemed to offer even less hope of any ending. But they had to go on and on, long after they were sick for a sight of the sun and of the sky, and longed for the feel of the wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forest-roof, and it was everlastingly still and dark and stuffy. Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunnelling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt she was being slowly suffocated.  
     At every stop they made, they ate huge amounts of food, trying to keep their spirits up. As the days went on, their bellies (and indeed their whole bodies) blew up steadily, and the food dwindled alarmingly. But still they could not seem to stop eating more at each stop than they did at the last. What would happen when their own food ran out, they did not seem to think about much.  
     The nights were the worst. It then became pitch-dark-- not what you call pitch-dark, but really pitch; so black that you really could see nothing. Belly-donna tried flapping her hand in front of her nose, but she could not see it at all. Well, perhaps it is not true to say that they could see nothing: they could see eyes. They slept all closely huddled together after their increasing meals, and took it in turns to watch; and when it was Belly-donna’s turn she would see gleams in the darkness round them, and sometimes pairs of yellow or red or green eyes would stare at her from a little distance, and then slowly fade and disappear and slowly shine out again in another place. And sometimes they would gleam down from the branches just above her; and that was most terrifying. Often she could hear slavering, as of some animal drooling over a meal; or actual sounds of eating-- chewing and swallowing-- all the night long.  
     Although it was not yet very cold, they tried lighting watch-fires at night, but they soon gave that up. It seemed to bring hundreds and hundreds of eyes all round them, though the creatures, whatever they were, were careful never to let their bodies show in the little flicker of the flames. Worse still it brought thousands of dark-gray and black moths, some nearly as big as you hand, flapping and whirring around their ears. They could not stand that, nor the huge bats, black as a top-hat, either, though the bats seemed interested only in devouring the moths; so they gave up fires and sat at night and dozed in the enormous uncanny darkness.  
     All this went on for what seemed to the hobbit ages upon ages; and she was always hungry, for they had to start being extremely careful with their provisions, in spite of the continuing urge to overindulge their huge bellies at every moment. Even so, as days followed days, and still the forest seemed just the same, they began to get anxious. The food would not last for ever: it was in fact already getting lower than they liked, and they consumed more at every chance. They tried shooting at the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, as fat as it was, it was still not nearly enough to satisfy all of them, and besides it proved horrible to taste; they shot no more squirrels. They began to eye the strange fruits, hanging lower now on the trees, nearly within reach, but they still remembered the warnings and did not reach for them.  
     They were thirsty too, for they had none too much water, and in all the time they had seen neither spring nor stream. This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by a running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom. It was well that Big-one had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its color, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been a bridge of wood across, but it had evidently collapsed as from a huge weight, leaving only the broken posts near the bank.  
     Belly-donna kneeling on the brink and peering forward cried: “There is a boat against the far bank! Now why couldn’t it have been this side!”  
     “How far away do you think it is?” asked More-in, for by now they knew Belly-donna had the sharpest eyes among them.  
     “Not far at all. I shouldn’t think above twelve yards.”  
     “Twelve yards! I should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don’t see as well as they used a dozen years ago. Still twelve yards is as good as a mile. With our massive obesity, we can’t jump it, and we daren’t try to wade or swim.”  
     “Can any of you throw a rope?”  
     “What’s the good of that? The boat is sure to be tied up, even if we could hook it, which I doubt.”  
     “I don’t believe it is tied,” said Belly-donna, “though of course I can’t be sure in this light; but it looks to me as if it was just drawn up on the bank, which is low just where the path goes down into the water.”  
     “Feeder is the strongest, but Feedee is the youngest and still has the best sight,” said More-in. “Come here Feedee, and see if you can see the boat Ms. Big’uns is talking about.”  
     Feedee thought she could; so when she had stared a long while to get an idea of the direction, the others brought her a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened one of the large iron hooks they had used for catching their packs to the straps about their shoulders. Feedee took this in her hand, balanced it for a moment, and then flung it across the stream.  
     Splash it fell in the water! “Not far enough!” said Belly-donna who was peering forward. “A couple of feet and you would have dropped it on to the boat. Try again. I don’t suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope.”  
     Feedee picked up the hook when she had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time she threw it with greater strength.  
     “Steady!” said Belly-donna, “you have thrown it right into the woods on the other side now. Draw it back gently.” Feedee hauled the rope back slowly, and after a while Belly-donna said:  
     “Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let’s hope the hook will catch.”  
     It did. The rope went taut, and Feedee pulled in vain, even using all her prodigious weight. Foodie came to help, and then Gut and Glut. They tugged and tugged, leaning on it with their collected mammoth weight, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs, their bellies jiggling long with the force of their fall. Belly-donna was on the lookout, however, caught the rope, and with a piece of stick fended off the little black boat as it came rushing across the stream. “Help!” she shouted, and Balloon was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current.  
     “It was tied after all,” said she, looking at the snapped painter that was still dangling from it. “That was a good pull, my lasses; and a good job that our rope was the stronger.”  
     “Who’ll cross first?” asked Belly-donna.  
     “I shall,” said More-in, “and you will come with me, and Feedee, and Balloon. That’s as many as the boat will hold at a time. After that, Foodie and Gut and Glut and Treater; next Eater and Feeder, Bigger and Blogger; and last D’widen and Bom-berry.”  
     “I’m always last and I don’t like it,” said Bom-berry. “It’s somebody else’s turn today.”  
     “You should not be bloated so wide; stop those berries of yours. As you are, you must be with the last and smallest boatload. Don’t start grumbling against orders, or something bad will happen to you.”  
     “There aren’t any oars. How are you going to push the boat back to the far bank?” asked the hobbit.  
     “Give me another length of rope and another hook,” said Feedee, and when they had got it ready, she cast into the darkness ahead and as high as she could throw. Since it did not fall back down again, they saw that it must have stuck in the branches. “Get in now,” said Feedee, “and one of you haul on the rope that is stuck in a tree on the other side. One of the others must keep hold of the hook we used at first, and when we are safe on the other side, she can hook it on, and you can draw the boat back.”  
     In this way they were all soon on the far bank safe across the enchanted stream. D’widen had just heaved her fat bulk out with the coiled rope on her arm, and Bom-berry (still grumbling) was getting ready to follow, when something bad did happen. There was a flying sound of hooves on the path ahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly the shape of a bulging fat deer. It charged into the dwarves and bowled them over, then gathered itself for a leap. High it sprang and cleared the water with a mighty jump. But it did not reach the other side in safety. More-in was the only one who had kept her feet and her wits. As soon as they had landed she had bent her bow and fitted an arrow in case any hidden guardian of the boat appeared. While the others were rolling around, held down by their fat bodies, she sent a swift and sure shot into the leaping beast. As it reached the further bank it stumbled. The shadows swallowed it up, but they heard the sound of hooves quickly falter and the go still.  
     Before they could shout in praise of the shot, or go retrieve the meat, a dreadful wail from Belly-donna put all thoughts of venison to the side. “Bom-berry has fallen in! Bom-berry is swelling up!” she cried. It was only too true. Bom-berry had only one foot on the land when the hart bore down on her, and sprang over her. She had stumbled, thrusting the boat away from the bank, and then toppled back into the dark water, her hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge, while the boat spun slowly off and disappeared.  
     They could see her body swelling, seeming to absorb the liquid and blow up like a massive water-balloon. Quickly they flung a rope with a hook towards her. Her hand caught it, and they pulled her to the shore. She was drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. After they laid her on the bank, she kept inflating, growing completely round, and much much larger than with her special berries. Her body grew quickly, bloating larger and larger, soon covering up her arms and legs, in fact all the way to her hands and feet, engulfing them completely and leaving only deep dents in her taut round ball she had become. Even her head was fully enveloped, buried inside her bloated sphere of a body. They could hear moans from inside the valley of her head; Bom-berry was so excited by the huge roundness and feel of tightly-packed liquid stretching her to her limits, that she was lost in a continuous orgasm. Her pussy juices flowed steadily, and constantly, never stopping as her fill-gasm went on and on; they could not get her to answer them. They were still standing about her, cursing their ill luck, and Bom-berry’s clumsiness, and lamenting the loss of the boat which made it impossible for them to go back and look for the hart, when they became aware of the dim blowing of horns in the wood and the sound as of dogs baying far off. Then they all fell silent; and as they sat it seemed they could hear the noise of a great hunt going by to the north of the path, though they saw no sign of it. There they sat for a long while and did not dare to make a move. Bom-berry kept moaning quietly with excitement, as if she no longer cared for all the troubles that vexed them.  
     Suddenly on the path ahead appeared some white deer, an enormously fat hind, and fawns as snowy white as the hart had been dark. They glimmered in the shadows. Before More-in could cry out three of the dwarves had leaped to their feet and loosed off arrows from their bows. None seemed to find their mark. The deer turned and, just before it vanished in the trees, a lucky shot brought it down. But the excited dwarves had used all their arrows, and now the bows that Big-one had given them were useless.  
     Still, they got some meat from the bargain. The dwarves dressed the deer, and heedless of any eyes, they lit a fire and roasted venison. As it was cooking, the party celebrated with a massive ‘quickie;’ they paired off as they had before: Feedee and Feeder; Balloon and Eater; Treater and Foodie; Gut and Bigger; Glut and Blogger; and More-in and D’widen; with Bom-berry already lost in her unending orgasm, Belly-donna had to see to herself, which she did happily, massaging and squeezing her tits and rubbing her still-immense belly and digging underneath into her own pusy, as she listened to Bom-berry cumming and ardently watched all six pairs of dwarves fingering and sucking each other to repeated orgasms.  
     Soon, the deer was cooked enough, and basking in the afterglow, they ate as much as they could. Still, a single hind, no matter how fat, was not nearly enough to really satisfy their hunger.  
     Having eaten just enough food to draw attention to their continuing hunger, they were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change. Yet if they had known more about it and considered the meaning of the hunt and the white deer that had appeared upon their path, they would have known that they were at last drawing towards the eastern edge, and would soon have come, if they could have kept up their courage and their hope, to thinner trees and places where sunlight came again.  
     But they did not know this, and they were burdened with the bloated body of Bom-berry, which they had to roll sloshing along with them as best they could, taking the wearisome task in turns of four each while the others shared their packs. If these had not become all too light in the last few days, they would never have managed it; but a bloated and still-moaning Bom-berry was a poor exchange for packs filled to the brim with food. In a few days a time came when there was practically nothing left to eat or to drink; not practically nothing as they as they, as fat and stuffed as they were, meant, but really almost all their food was gone. Nothing wholesome could they see growing in the woods, only the strange and somehow terrifying fruits hanging from the trees.  
     About four days from the enchanted stream they came to a part where most of the trees were beeches. They were at first inclined to be cheered by the change, for here there was no undergrowth and the shadow was not so deep. There was a greenish light about them, and in places they could see some distance to either side of the path. Yet the light only showed them endless lines of straight gray trunks like the pillars of some huge twilight hall. There was a breath of air and a noise of wind, but it had a sad sound. A few leaves came rustling down to remind them that outside autumn was coming on. Their feet ruffled among the dead leaves of countless other autumns that drifted over the banks of the path from the deep red carpets of the forest. Belly-donna took the momentary rest to quickly bring herself to another quick climax, just to take the edge of fear and unease away.  
     Still Bom-berry moaned in her endless orgasm, just from being inflated with the river water to sphericality, and they grew very weary and very hungry. At times they heard disquieting laughter. Sometimes there was singing in the distance too. The laughter was the laughter of fair voices not of goblins, and the singing was beautiful, but it sounded eerie and strange, and they were not comforted, rather they huddled away from those sounds.  
     That night they ate their very last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the next thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor. That only reminded them that they were also parchingly thirsty, without doing anything to relieve them: you cannot quench a terrible thirst by standing under giant trees and waiting for a chance drip to fall on your tongue. The only comfort came from Bom-berry.  
     Her cumming and moaning ended suddenly and she became aware of her surroundings. She struggled to move under her own power and called to the others, though muffled, as her head was buried inside her round body. She could not make out where she was at all, nor why she felt so hungry; for she had forgotten everything that had happened since they started their journey that May morning long ago. The last thing that she remembered was the party and stuffing at the hobbit’s house, and they had great difficulty in making her believe their tale of all the many adventures they had had since. Only her own body, bloated and tight with liquid that she herself could feel was not her usual berry-juice, convinced her that any of it was true. Now that she was aware again, her body seemed to deflate gradually, and after some time, she was able to waddle along, though quite slowly, after the rest.  
     There was nothing now to be done but to try and ignore their empty stomachs, and hoist their empty sacks and packs, and trudge along the track without any great hope of ever getting to the end before they lay down and died of starvation. This they did all that day, going very slowly and wearily, while Bom-berry kept on wailing that her legs would not carry her and that she wanted to lie down and have one of her berries to get bloated and round again.  
     “No you don’t!” they said. “Let your legs take their share, we have rolled you far enough.”  
     All the same she suddenly refused to go a step further and flung herself on the ground. “Go on, if you must,” she said. “I’m just going to lie here, fuck myself, and sleep and dream of food, if I can’t get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again.” And she jammed four of her fingers right up her pussy, plunging them deep and fast, and cumming almost instantly as she moaned incoherently about swelling and blown up with juice.  
     At that very moment Balloon, who was a little way ahead, called out: “What was that? I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest.”  
     They all looked, and a longish way off, it seemed, they saw a red twinkle in the dark; then another and another sprang out beside it. They hurried along then, not caring if it was trolls or goblins. The light was in front of them and to the left of the path, and when at last they had drawn level with it, it seemed plain that torches and fires were burning under the trees, but a good way off their track.  
     “It looks as if my dreams were coming true,” gasped Feedee. She wanted to rush straight off into the woods after the lights. But the others remembered only too well the warnings of the wizard and of Big-one. “A feast would be no good, if we never got back alive from it,” said More-in.  
     “But without a feast we shan’t remain alive much longer anyway,” said Feedee, and Belly-donna heartily agreed with her. They argued about it backwards and forwards for a long while, until they agreed at length to send out a couple of spies, to creep near the lights and find out more about them. But then they could not agree on who was to be sent: no one seemed anxious to run the chance of being lost and never finding her friends again. In the end, in spite of warnings, hunger decided them, because Feedee (and Belly-donna too), experienced with feasting and indulgent meals, kept on describing all the good things that must be there, being eaten in the woodland feast, all the while rubbing the bellies and breasts eagerly; so they all left the path and plunged into the forest together.  
     After a good deal of creeping and crawling they peered round the trunks and looked into a clearing where some trees had been felled and the ground levelled. There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle. There was a fire in their midst and there were torches fastened to some of the trees round about; but most splendid sight of all: they were, each one, immensely fat and eating and drinking huge piles of food and drink. As they watched, some of the folk feasting began petting and kissing and fondling; many even as they kept on eating and feeding each other. Often, one would be fed by a partner while a second would fondle, lick,and eat her out. Others would be the center of three sucking, licking, and touching while two more would keep feeding that one.  
     The smell of roasting meats was so enchanting that, without waiting to consult one another, every one of them got up and scrambled forwards into the ring with the one idea of begging for some food. No sooner had the first stepped into the clearing than all the lights went out as if by magic. Somebody kicked the fire and it went up in rockets of glittering sparks and vanished. They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not for a long time at any rate. After blundering about frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping crash into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch. By that time they had, of course, quite forgotten in what direction the path lay, and they were all hopelessly lost, at least till morning.  
     There was nothing for it but to settle down for the night where they were; they did not even dare to search on the ground for scraps of food for fear of becoming separated again. But they had not been lying long, and Belly-donna was only just getting drowsy, when Treater, whose turn it was to watch first, said in a loud whisper:  
     “The lights are coming out again over there, and there are more than ever of them.”  
     Up they all jumped. There, sure enough, not far away were scores of twinkling lights, and they heard the voices and the laughter quite plainly. They crept slowly towards them, in a single line, each touching the back of the one in front. When they got near, they could see that not only were there more of the elvish folk, they looked much fatter than before, and the piles of food were yet greater. More-in said: “No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Ms. Big’uns alone first to talk to them. They won’t be frightened of her- (‘What about me of them?’ thought Belly-donna)- and any way I hope they won’t do anything nasty to her.”  
     When they got to the edge of the circle of lights they pushed Belly-donna suddenly from behind. She stumbled forward into the full blaze of the fire and torches. It was no good. Out went all the lights again and complete darkness fell. If it had been difficult collecting themselves before, it was far worse this time. And they simply could not find the hobbit. every time they counted themselves it only made thirteen. They shouted and called: “Belly Big’uns! Hobbit! You bloated hobbit! Hi! hobbit, confusticate you, where are you?” and other things of that sort, but there was no answer.  
     They were just giving up hope, when Treater stumbled across her by sheer luck. In the dark she fell over what she thought was a log, and she found it was the hobbit curled up fast asleep. It took a great deal of shaking to wake her, and when she was awake she was not pleased at all.  
     “I was having such a lovely dream,” she grumbled, “all about having a most gorgeous dinner. A woodland queen was there with a crown of leaves, and there was a merry singing, and I was stuffing myself with abandon, and blowing up so large--”  
     “Don’t tell us about dreams,” they said. “Dream-dinners aren’t any good, and we can’t share them.”  
     “They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place,” she muttered, as she lay down beside the dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find her dream again. But that was not the last of the lights in the forest. Later when the night must have been getting old, Foodie who was watching then, came and roused them all again, saying:  
     “There’s a regular blaze of light begun not far away -- hundreds of torches and many fires must have been lit suddenly and by magic. And hark the stuffing and the sheer size of them!”  
     After lying and watching the feeding orgy for a while, getting hungrier and hornier, they found they could not resist the desire to go nearer and try once more to get help, and maybe some sex. Up they got again; and this time the result was disastrous. The feast that they now say was greater and more magnificent that before; and at the head of a long line of truly enormously fat feasters sat a woodland queen, fatter even that all the rest, with a crown of leaves upon her golden hair, very much as Belly-donna had described the figures in her dream. The elvish folk were passing bowls from hand to hand across the fires, and some were harping and many were singing. Their gloaming hair was twined with flowers; green and white gems glinted on their collars and their belts; their fat faces and their songs were filled with mirth; and their massively fat bellies shook and quivered with both their laughter and their continual stuffing billowing them outwards as more and more food was shoved into them. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, and out stepped More-in into their midst.  
     Dead silence fell in the middle of a word. Out went all light. The fires leaped up in black smokes. Ashes and cinders were in the eyes of the dwarves, and the wood was filled again with their clamor and their cries. Belly-donna found herself running round and round (as she thought) and calling and calling: “Treater, Feeder, Eater, Gut, Glut, Feedee, Foodie, Bigger, Blogger, D’widen, Balloon, More-in Oakenbowl,” while people she could not see or feel were doing the same all round her (with an occasional “Belly-donna!” thrown in).  
     But soon, the sun evidently rose somewhere beyond the forest, and the deep darkness faded to a twilight gloom. Quickly, the dwarves and Ms. Big’uns found each other and looked around. They were lost in the endless forest. All around them were real fruit trees: apples and pears, peaches and plums, with grape-vines besides. They were desperately hungry, but after their many troubles all the night long, the warnings of the wizard and of Big-one were clear in their minds, and they dared not grab them.  
     But before long, their hunger became irresistible, and forgetting all warnings, first one, then another, and finally all the dwarves and Ms. Big’uns grabbed fruit from the trees. All of the party had the same thing happen to them.  
     For Ms. Big’uns, her first bite of the fruit was the juiciest, most succulent, and simply the tastiest thing she had ever eaten, excepting none of her favorite desserts, nor any of the various delicacies she had encountered and devoured on her travels. She finished the fruit in seconds, and without stopping to think, she grabbed another one in each hand, and quickly finished them off too, reaching immediately for more. Two by two, she worked her way through the fruit, not stopping, not slowing, just cramming her mouth full over and over and over again. Each apple, each pear, each peach, each plum, even the grapes, inflated her belly, more than seemed possible from such a (comparably) small morsel. Bigger and bigger it grew, quickly becoming stuffed and tight as she kept eating and eating and eating. Her belly ballooned as she stuffed it mindlessly, straining at her clothes. Before long, she had inflated so huge that small tears formed in the cloth, spreading as she grew ever larger and fatter and more stuffed, until finally her clothing was shredded off of her by her body’s impossible expansion.  
     Still she fed, still she swelled, more and more crammed into her already-massive belly, stretching it bigger and bigger, tighter and tighter. Heedless of the effect her enhanced gluttony was having on her figure, she stumbled headlong through the trees, eating everything she could lay her hands on. Between her belly, which now reached to the ground and stuck out in front of her almost three feet, and her legs, swollen bigger around than the trees around her, she was beginning to have trouble walking, and her bosom had grown so vast that she couldn’t see past them to watch where she was going, but her insatiable hunger drove her on relentlessly. Her arms, grown as big around as her whole body had been, still managed to reach up to the trees and get the food into her mouth. In fact, the trees seemed to lean down to make the fruits easier to grab. Had she been able to think coherently, she might have wondered how her hands, bloated round like balls with her fingers poking out like overstuffed sausages, managed to hold onto the food. As it was, she didn’t even care. The only thought remaining in her head was that she had to have more food. Soon an ominous creaking sounded, as with the trolls’ stuffing, and pain started to emanate from her belly outwards.  
     Maybe it was the sense of pain, maybe some effect of the ring (still on her finger); but something brought her back to herself. She blinked, confused, and looked down at her hands, still gripping two mushed fruits. She dropped them and looked down at her immense figure. Or she tried to; her body was so monstrously engorged, that she could not lower her head to look down. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), she was so gigantic that she did not have to lower her head very much at all to see the effects of her mindless gorging. Dazed, she looked around for the dwarves.  
     She found them, one by one, all mindlessly stuffing themselves with the fruits, as she just had been. They had wandered away, seeking more food, and even more food. Already they were as fat and round as she was, their clothes shredded too, and somehow, she saw, they were still moving, slowly and heavily, amongst the trees and grabbing more of the fruits, jamming them into their mouths, forcing the half-chewed mouthfuls already within down their throats, billowing their blimped bellies still farther out. Belly-donna could clearly hear an ominous creaking coming from each dwarf’s body. Their skin shone with the tension, looking like over-filled balloons ready to explode.  
     The ring warmed on her finger, and Belly-donna felt her digestion race impossibly fast, regaining at least some of her mobility. She waddled desperately after the dwarves, calling and calling them. One by one, the dwarves slowly shook their heads back and forth, and looked dazed at their hands, still clasping mashed fruits, in the process of bringing them up to their mouths. Indeed a few of the dwarves’ hands, even as they themselves watched, brought the food right up to their lips before they were able to drop them.  
     Now all of them (except Belly-donna) were stuffed and full of so much food that their bodies had been consumed by their totally round and tightly packed bellies. Their bellies, in fact, had billowed out so vast that they engulfed their legs, and only a little of their arms and hands were visible and able to move. Only their heads were completely free, so they could chew and swallow anything that came to their mouths. The fruits still exerted some pull on the dwarves; several of them began to stuff themselves again, steadily packing still more into their already-tight bellies. The creaking started again as their expansion actually stopped, reaching the limit of possible expansion. But still those dwarves kept trying to stuff more and more food in their stomachs. Belly-donna called them again, and waddled over to physically hold their hands still until they came to themselves.  
     “It’s these fruits,” she said to the dwarves. “We have to get away from them.”  
     Bom-berry answered, in a voice slurred and thickened by the sheer fatness of her face and neck, “but they’re delicious. I have to have more.”  
     Belly-donna cried, to all the dwarves, “look at your bellies! One more bite, and you’ll burst! All of you!”  
     More-in (now truly living up to her name) shook herself again, and said, “Ms. Big’uns is quite right.” Her voice, too, was slurred by her massive stuffed weight. “Come! We have to escape from this.”  
     Slowly, the dwarves moved away from the seductive fruits. Some waddled, as Belly-donna did; some (Bom-berry adn Feedee notably) were so fat and round that they had to be rolled. Several of the dwarves (Bom-berry, Feedee, and Gut, to name a few) kept reaching for yet more fruit, unable to resist the siren call of the spell, uncaring if they ate themselves all the way to bursting. Belly-donna went from one to another, slapping the fruits from their hands. But she could not be everywhere at once, and those several of the dwarves, though groaning in pain at their too-stuffed bellies, still popped another fruit (or five or six) down their throats in spite of her efforts, pushing perilously close to their absolute limit.  
     Finally, the dwarves found themselves able to push aside the fascination of the fruits. They then noticed that they had come to the edge of a ring where elf-fires had been. Whether it was one of those they had seen the night before, they could not tell. But it seemed that some good magic lingered in such spots, which could temper the dark magic of the fruits. At any rate the light here was greener, and the boughs less thick and threatening, and they had a chance to rest and draw breath.  
     There they lay for some time, puffing and panting with painful fullness. But very soon they began to ask questions. They wondered how Belly-donna, more eager than any of them, even Bom-berry, to eat herself immobile under any circumstances, had managed to snap out of the enchantment before the rest. In the end Belly-donna could think of no alternative except to let the dwarves into the secret of her ring. She was rather sorry about it, but it could not be helped.  
     They had to have the whole ring business carefully explained, and the finding of that ring interested them so much that for a while they forgot their own troubles. Balloon in particular insisted on having the Gulp-em story told all over again, with the ring in its proper place. But after a time, the light began to fail, and then other questions were asked. Where were they, and where was their path, and where was there any food safe to eat, and what were they going to do next? These questions they asked over and over again, as their bodies began to digest the massive over-glut of fruit, fattening them further but shrinking their bellies to a size where they could walk more easily. It was from Belly-donna that they seemed to expect to get answers. From which you can see that they had changed their opinion of Ms. Big’uns very much, and had begun to have a great respect for her (as Lardass had said they would). Indeed they really expected her to think of some wonderful plan for helping them, and were not merely grumbling. They know only too well that they would soon all have exploded their bellies, if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked her many times. Some of them even tried to get up and bow before her, though they were still far too fat to do more than wobble. Knowing the truth about the ring did not lessen their opinion of Belly-donna at all; for they saw that she had some wits, as well as luck and a magic ring-- and all three are very useful possessions. In fact they praised her so much that Belly-donna began to feel there really was something of a bold adventurer about herself after all, though she would have felt a lot bolder still, if there had been anything safe to eat.  
     But there was nothing, nothing at all; and none of them were fit to go and look for anything, or to search for the lost path. The lost path! No other idea would come into Belly-donna’s tired head. She just sat staring in front of her at the endless trees; and after a while the party took the opportunity to indulge themselves again. They didn’t bother pairing off this time, they simply fell together, groping tits and rubbing bellies and fingering pussies without really caring whose was whose, just fondling and groping any and all sex organs that came within their reach. Finally, they wound down and all fell silent again. All except Balloon. Long after the others had stopped talking and shut their eyes, she kept on muttering and chuckling to herself.  
     “Gulp-em! Well I’m blest! So that’s how she got past the guards is it? Now I know! Good old Belly-Belly-Belly-ly-ly-ly” And then she fell asleep, and there was complete silence for a long time.  
     All of a sudden D’widen opened an eye, and looked round at them. “Where is More-in?” she asked. It was a terrible shock. There were only thirteen of them, twelve dwarves and the hobbit. Somewhere as Belly-donna had herded the dwarves away from the fruits that would burst them, More-in had vanished. Where indeed was she? They wondered what evil fate had befallen her, magic or dark monsters, and why and how she had wandered away; and they shuddered as they lay lost in the forest. There they dropped off one by one into uncomfortable sleep full of dreams of force-feeding and eating by themselves without any way to stop, pushing themselves closer and closer to bursting, as evening wore to black night; and there we must leave them for the present, too bloated and weary to set guards or take turns watching.  
     More-in had indeed wandered off, fighting at every step the lure of the fruits. She had needed such efforts to resist that she completely lost view of her friends and wandered insensible of the outside world. Then the Wood-elves had come to her, bound her, and carried her away. The feasting people were Wood-elves, of course. These are not wicked folk. If they have a fault it is distrust of strangers. Though their magic was strong, even in those days they were wary. They differed from the Wide Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and had less culinary mastery. For most of them (together with their scattered relations in the hills and mountains) were descended from the ancient tribes that never went to Faerie in the West. There the Large-Elves and the Broad-elves and the Seafood-elves went and lived for ages, and grew fatter and hungrier and more skilled in cooking, and invented their magic and their cunning craft, in the making of delicious and marvellous dishes, before some came back to the Wide World. In the Wide World the Wood-elves lingered feasting in the twilight of our Sun and Moon but loved best banquets under the stars; and they wandered and fed and ate in the great forests that grew tall in lands that are now lost. They dwelt most often by the edges of the woods, from which they could escape at times to hunt, or to eat and eat on the open lands by moonlight or starlight; and after the coming of Men they took ever more and more to the gloaming and the dusk. Still elves they were and remain, and that is Good People.  
     In a great cave some miles within the edge of Gorge-wood on its eastern side there lived at this time their greatest queen. Before her huge doors of stone a river ran out of the heights of the forest and flowed on and out into the marshes at the feet of the high wooded lands. This great cave, from which countless smaller ones opened out on every side, wound far underground and had many passages and wide halls; but it was lighter and more wholesome than any goblin-dwelling, and neither so deep nor so dangerous. In fact the subjects of the queen mostly lived and hunted in the open woods, and had houses or huts on the ground and in low branches they could haul their obese bodies up to. The beeches were their favorite trees. The queen’s cave was her palace, and the strong place of her pantries, and the fortress and dining hall of her people against their enemies.  
          It was also the dungeon of her prisoners. So to the cave they dragged More-in-- not too gently, for they did not love dwarves, and thought she was an enemy. In ancient days they had had wars and eating-contests with some of the dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their food-stores. It is only fair to say that the dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-queen had bargained with them to shape her raw sugar and flour into wondrous pastries, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay. If the elf-queen had a weakness it was for desserts and pastries, especially for pies and cakes; and though her table was rich, she was ever eager for more, since she had not yet as great a food-filled belly as other elf-ladies of old. Her people did not bother much with trade or with tilling the earth. All this was known to every dwarf, though More-in’s family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel I have spoken of. Consequently, More-in was angry at their treatment of her, when they broke the spell on her and she came to her senses; and also she was determined that no word of food or desserts should be dragged out of her.  
     The queen looked sternly on More-in, when she was brought before her, and asked her many questions. But More-in would only say that she was starving.  
     “Why did you and your folk three times try to attack my people at their merrymaking?” asked the queen.  
     “We did not attack them,” answered More-in, “we came to beg, because we were starving.”  
     “Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?”  
     “I don’t know, but I expect starving in the forest.”  
     “What were you doing in the forest?”  
     “Looking for food and drink, because we were starving.”  
     “But what brought you into the forest at all?” asked the queen angrily.  
     At that More-in shut her mouth and would not say another word.  
     “Very well!” said the queen. “Take her away and keep her safe, until she feels inclined to tell the truth, even if she waits a hundred years.”  
     Then the elves put thongs on her, and shut her in one of the inmost caves with strong wooden doors, and left her. They gave her food and drink, huge quantities of both, if not very fine; for Wood-elves were not goblins, and were reasonably well-behaved even to their worst enemies, when they captured them.  
     There in the queen’s dungeon poor More-in lay; and after she had got over her thankfulness for bread and meat and water, she began to wonder what had become of her unfortunate friends. It was not very long before she discovered; but that belongs to the next chapter and the beginning of another adventure in which the hobbit again showed her usefulness.


	9. Barrel-sized Out of Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna and the dwarves are captures by Wood-elves, though Belly-donna gets free easily enough, and stuffs herself (and others), it takes a clever plan to escape from the dungeons of the Elf-queen.

     The day after escaping being burst from over-stuffing with the fruits, Belly-donna and the dwarves made one last despairing effort to find a way out before they succumbed again to the fruits, this time bursting for certain. They got up and staggered on in the direction with eight out of the thirteen of them guessed to be the one in which the path lay; but they never found out if they were right. Such day as there ever was in the forest was fading once more into the blackness of night, when suddenly out sprang the light of many torches all round them, like hundreds of red stars. Out leaped Wood-elves with their bows and spears and called the dwarves to halt.  
     There was no thought of a fight. Even if the dwarves had not been in such a state that they were actually glad to be captured, their small knives, the only weapons they had, would have been of no use against the arrows of the elves that could hit a bird in the dark, perfectly spitting it ready to roast. So they simply stopped dead and waited.  
     Each dwarf (and the hobbit) was blindfolded, but that did not make much difference, for neither Belly-donna nor the others knew where they had started from anyway. Belly-donna, with the shortest legs, had all she could do to keep up with the march, for the elves were making the dwarves go as fast as ever they could, weary and still nearly immobile as they were. The queen had ordered them to make haste. Soon they reached the bridge that led across the river to the queen’s doors. The water flowed dark and swift and strong beneath; and at the far end were gates before the mouth of a huge cave that ran into the side of a steep slope covered with trees. There the great beeches came right down to the bank, till their feet were in the stream. Across this bridge the elves thrust their prisoners, and the great gates of the queen closed behind them with a clang.  
     Inside the passages were lit with red torch-light, and the elf-guards sang as they marched along the twisting, crossing, and echoing paths. These were not like those of the goblin-cities: they were smaller, less deep underground, and filled with cleaner air. In a great hall with pillars hewn out of the living stone sat the Elven-queen on a chair of carven wood. On her head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In the spring she wore a crown of woodland flowers. Her belly and bosom were massive, larger even than those of hugely buxom Lardass. In her hand she held a carven staff of oak.  
     The prisoners were brought before her; and though she looked grimly at them, she told her guards to unbind them, for they were ragged and weary and starving. “Besides they need no ropes in here,” said she. “There is no escape from my magic doors for those who are once brought inside.”  
     Long and searchingly she questioned the dwarves about their doings, and where they were going to, and where they were coming from; but she got little more news out of them than out of More-in. They were surly and angry and did not even pretend to be polite. Belly-donna stayed quiet at the back, unwilling even to speak at all.  
     “What have we done, O queen?” said Balloon, who was the eldest left, “Is it a crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungry and thirsty, to eat of the fruits in the forest? Are those fruits your special crops, if eating them makes you angry?” Such a question of course made the queen angrier than ever, and she answered: “It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave. Do you forget that you were in my kingdom, using the road that my people made? Did you not three times pursue and trouble my people in the forest, and call the attention of certain dark powers with your feasting on their fruits? After all the disturbance you have made I have a right to know what brings you here, and if you will not tell me now, I will keep you all in prison until you have learned sense and manners!”  
     Then she ordered the dwarves, and Ms.Big’uns, each to be put in a separate cell and to be given food and drink, but not to be allowed to pass the doors of their little prisons, until one at least of them was willing to tell her all she wanted to know. But she did not tell them that More-in was also a prisoner with her. It was Belly-donna who found that out.  
     Ms. Big’uns was quickly able to use her ring to achieve a certain freedom in the caves. All she had to do was wait until a jailer had opened her cell to feed her and mention that she must be hungry for some elvish delicacy or other, and with the power of her ring, the guard would immediately drop her food (or often, eat it themselves), then go straight to the kitchens of the Elf-queen, usually not bothering to close the cell door on Belly-donna. It was then an easy matter for her to roam about the queen’s caves (dodging the elves with more than hobbit care), pick up nearly as much food as she could want by stealing it from store or table when no one was at hand. This she did, as often as ever she could, amazingly growing even fatter on the elves’ succulent leavings. She would carry huge armloads of extra food to stash in her cell, in case she ever was unable to get out. After a few days, she got hold of a pack, and began carrying food with her at all times, eating huge mouthfuls to calm her nerves after particularly close calls, or just to cheer herself up.  
     Those time when she couldn’t get the guards to leave her door open when she ordered them to go eat, she stayed in her cell, cramming food down her throat with one hand and getting herself off with the other. She could stuff herself to three or four times larger as she rubbed her pussy, cumming over and over. A few times, she would use some of the food (properly shaped) as a dildo, then devour it whole, still covered in her own juices.  
     If the guards noticed her incredible gain, on prisoner’s fare, they either thought it must be normal for hobbits, or they didn’t even notice it past their own now-incessant cravings for more of the own food. Indeed, some of her guards had grown nearly immobile on Belly-donna’s commands to eat.  
     “I am like a burglar that can’t get away, but must go on miserably burgling the same house day after day,” she thought. “This is the dreariest and dullest part of all this wretched, tiresome, uncomfortable adventure! I wish I was back in my hobbit-hole at my own table, gorging on my own food, as much as I could possibly desire!” She often wished, too, that she could get a message for help sent to the wizard, but that of course was quite impossible; and she soon realized that if anything was to be done, it would have to be done by Ms. Big’uns, alone and unaided (if very well-fed).  
     Eventually, after a week or two of this sneaking sort of life (growing immensely fat on her own stolen foods), by watching and following the guards and taking what chances she could, she managed to find out where each dwarf was kept. She found all their twelve cells in different parts of the palace, and after a time she got to know her way about very well. What was her surprise one day to overhear some of the guards talking over food and wine and to learn that there was another dwarf in prison too, in a specially deep dark place. She guessed at once, of course, that that was More-in; and after a while she found that her guess was right. At last after many difficulties she managed to find the place when no one was about, and to have a word with the chieftess of the dwarves. More-in was too wretched to be angry any longer at her misfortunes, and was even beginning to think of telling the queen all about her food-hoard and her quest (which shows how low-spirited she had become), when she heard Belly-donna’s little voice at her keyhole. She could hardly believe her ears. Soon however she made up her mind that she could not be mistaken, and she came to the door and had a long whispered talk with the hobbit on the other side.  
     So it was that Belly-donna was able to take secretly More-in’s message to each of the other imprisoned dwarves, telling them that More-in their chieftess was also in prison close at hand, and that no one was to reveal their errand to the queen, not yet, not before More-in gave the word. For More-in had taken heart again hearing how the hobbit had kept the dwarves together and safe after the overfeeding of the fruits, and was determined once more not to ransom herself with promises to the queen of a share in the food-treasure, until all hope of escaping in any other way had disappeared; until in fact the remarkable Ms. Insatiable Big’uns (of whom she began to have a very high opinion indeed) had altogether failed to think of something clever.  
     The other dwarves quite agreed when they got the message. They all thought their own shares in the food-hoard (which they quite regarded as theirs, in spite of their plight and the still unconquered dragon) would suffer seriously if the Wood-elves claimed part of it, and they all trusted Belly-donna. Just what Lardass had said would happen, you see. Perhaps that was part of her reason for going off and leaving them.  
     Belly-donna, however, did not feel nearly so hopeful as they did. She did not like being depended on by everyone, except perhaps for feeding or catering services, and she wished she had the wizard at hand. But that was no use: probably all the dark distance of Gorge-wood lay between them. She sat stuffing herself and thought and thought, until her head (and belly) nearly burst, but no bright idea would come. Her magic ring was a very fine thing, but she thought it would not be able to distract the guards of all fourteen of them at once; at the least, the sudden arrival of so many for a long stuffing session would be noticed and acted upon. But of course, as you have guessed, she did rescue her friends in the end, and this is how it happened. One day, nosing and wandering about looking for more food to sneak and stuff herself, Belly-donna discovered a very interesting thing: the great gates were not the only entrance to the caves. A stream flowed under part of the lowest regions of the palace, and joined the Forest River some way further to the east, beyond the steep slope out of which the main mouth opened. Where this underground watercourse came forth from the hillside there was a water-gate. There the rocky roof came down close to the surface of the stream, and from it a portcullis could be dropped right to the bed of the river to prevent anyone coming in or out that way. But the portcullis was often open, for a good deal of traffic went out and in by the water-gate. If anyone had come in that way, she would have found herself in a dark rough tunnel leading deep into the heart of the hill; but at one point where it passed under the cave the roof had been cut away and covered with great oaken trapdoors. These opened upwards into the queen’s cellars. There stood barrels, and barrels, and barrels; for the Wood-elves, and especially their queen, were very fond of wine, though no vines grew in those parts, and massive amounts of rich food and sweets. The wine and food were brought from far away, from their kinsfolk in the South, or from the vineyards of Men in distant lands.  
     Hiding behind one of the largest barrels Belly-donna discovered the trapdoors and their use, and lurking there, listening to the talk of the queen’s servants, she learned how the wine and other goods came up the rivers, or over land, to the Long Lake. It seemed a town of Men still throve there, built out on bridges far into the water as a protection against enemies of all sorts, and especially against the dragon of the Mountain. From Lake-town the barrels were brought up the Forest River. Often they were just tied together like big rafts and poled or rowed up the stream; sometimes they were loaded on to flat boats.  
     When the empty barrels were to be returned to the Lake-men, or when the queen consented to send trade-goods to them, the elves cast them through the trapdoors, opened the water-gate and out the barrels floated on the stream, bobbing along, until they were carried by the current to a place far down the river where the bank jutted out, near to the very eastern edge of Gorge-wood. There they were collected and tied together and floated back to Lake-town, which stood close to the point where the Forest River flowed into the Long Lake.  
     For some time Belly-donna sat and thought about this water-gate, and wondered if it could be used for the escape of her friends, and at last she had the desperate beginnings of a plan. The evening meal had been taken to the prisoners. The guards were tramping away down the passages taking the torch-light with them and leaving everything in darkness. Then Belly-donna heard the queen’s butler bidding the chief of the guards good-night.  
     “Now come with me,” she said, “and taste the new wine and food that has just come in. I shall be hard at work tonight sending off the monthly trade shipment to Lake-town, so let us drink and feast first to help the labor.”  
     “Very good,” laughed the chief of the guards. “I’ll taste with you, and see if it is fit for the queen’s table. There is a feast tonight and it would not do to send up poor stuff!”  
     When she heard this Belly-donna was all in a flutter, for she saw that luck was with her and she had a change at once to try her desperate plan. When her own food came, she once again commanded the now morbidly-obese guard to go and eat again, this time until her knees would be buried under her gigantic belly. The guard immediately went off to sate her enchanted hunger, leaving Belly-donna free and alone. She quickly shut her cell-door, then found and followed the butler and the guard-chief, until they entered a small cellar and sat down at a table on which two large flagons and a huge pile of food were set. Soon they began to drink and eat and laugh merrily. Luck of an unusual kind was with Belly-donna then. It must be potent wine and rich heavy food to make a wood-elf drowsy; but this wine, it would seem, was the heady vintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion, and the food was indeed succulent and sweet, not meant for her soldiers or her servants, but for the queen’s feasts only, and for smaller bowls, not the butler’s great flagons and piles.  
     Very soon the chief guard leaned forwards to stuff a huge mouthful into the butler. She was a bit surprised, but eager enough to be fed. As the guard kept cramming more and more food in her mouth, the butler rubbed her growing belly and tits with one hand and reached out to massage the guard’s belly and ass with her other. As the food and wine finally ran out, the butler’s bloated belly had shredded her clothing, leaving easy access for the guard. She took full advantage of it, leaning in to lick and suckle at the butler’s massive tits, and reaching down under her bulging belly to finger her. The butler, moaning in pleasure, reached both her hands out to massage the guard’s massive tits in return.  
     After a short time, the guard backed off and lay down on her back. The butler immediately smiled. “You’re still hungry?” she teased. “You want me to sit on you?”  
     The guard nodded eagerly, and the butler stood up, wobbling from drunkenness, and dropped heavily onto the guard’s face. She immediately stuck her tongue deep inside the butler’s puffy pussy lips, and quickly found her clit, driving the butler to a screaming climax. Even as she rode the wave, the butler leaned back, resting her weight on one arm on the guard’s leg, and finding her pussy with the other, returning the favor with a deep fingering. Both women hit repeated simultaneous climaxes, spraying their cum everywhere.  
     As the calmed down, the butler stood, tottering again this time her legs weak from the many orgasms, and retrieved the remaining food from their little table. As the guard panted, semi-conscious, the butler stuffed her with all the food they had left, rubbing her belly and pussy with one hand. The guard, still on edge from the previous, immediately started cumming again, screaming her pleasure around the steady flow of food down her throat.  
     Belly-donna, watching the show, of course, got herself off as she did, tweaking her hard nipples and rubbing over her sensitive belly-flesh with one hand while the other danced between her legs. She had to be careful to stay quiet enough that the women wouldn’t hear her.  
     Finally, the two women collapsed, panting. The butler nodded her head over the guard’s now-enormous stuffed stomach, then she rolled onto her back to give her painfully-full belly some room, and fell fast asleep. Then in crept the hobbit. Very soon the chief guard had no keys, but Belly-donna was trotting as fast as her massive belly could along the passage towards the cells. The great bunch of keys seemed very heavy to her arms, and her heart was often in her mouth (and she needed to eat something or other to settle it), for she could not prevent the keys from making every now and then a loud clink and clank, which put her all in a tremble.  
     First she unlocked Balloon’s door, and locked it again carefully as soon as the dwarf was outside. Balloon was most surprised, she wanted to stop and ask questions, and know what Belly-donna was going to do, and how she had gotten so incredibly fat, and all about it.  
     “No time now!” said the hobbit. “You must follow me! We must all keep together and not risk getting separated. All of us must escape or none, and this is our last chance. If this is found out, goodness knows where the queen will put you next, with chains on your hands and feet too, I expect. Maybe she’ll have you stuffed to fill up a whole room, unable to get through the doors, and immobile into the bargain. Don’t argue, there’s a good lass!”  
     Then off she went from door to door, until her following had grown to twelve-- none of them any too nimble, what with the dark, and what with their long imprisonment being fed well but not able to walk or move much; they had all grown fatter and flabby. Belly-donna’s heart thumped every time one of them bumped into another, or grunted or whispered in the dark. “Drat this dwarvish racket!” she said to herself. But all went well, and they met no guards. As a matter of fact, there was a great autumn feast in the woods that night, and in the halls above. Nearly all the queen’s folk were merrymaking and stuffing themselves insensate long into the night. At last after much blundering they came to More-in’s dungeon, far down in a deep place and fortunately not far from the cellars.  
     “Upon my word!” said More-in, when Belly-donna whispered to her to come out and her friends, “Lardass spoke true, as usual. A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all for ever at your service, whatever happens after this. But what comes next?”  
     Belly-donna saw that the time had come to explain her idea, as far as she could; but she did not feel at all sure how the dwarves would take it. Her fears were quite justified, for they did not like it a bit, and started grumbling loudly in spite of their danger.  
     “We shall be bruised and battered to pieces, and drowned too, for certain!” they muttered. “We thought you had got some sensible notion, when you managed to get hold of the keys. This is a mad idea!”  
     “Very well!” said Belly-donna very downcast, and also rather annoyed. “Come along back to your nice cells,and I will lock you all in again, and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan-- but I don’t suppose I shall ever get hold of the keys again, even if I feel inclined to try.”  
     That was too much for them, and they calmed down. In the end, of course, they had to do just what Belly-donna suggested, because it was obviously impossible for them to try and find their way into the upper halls, or to fight their way out of gates that closed by magic; and it was not good grumbling in the passages until they were caught again. So following the hobbit, down into the lowest cellars they crept. They passed a door through which the chief guard and the butler could be seen still happily snoring with the stuffed taut bellies sticking far out in front of them and smiles on their fat faces. There would be a different expression on the face of the chief guard the next day, even though Belly-donna, before they went on, stole in and kind-heartedly put the keys back on her belt. She couldn’t resist taking a quick lick on the guards’ massive tits, trailing past the butler’s unconscious body to tongue over her huge belly and digging, for only a second or two, into her still-wet pussy. The guard moaned in her sleep, with one last tiny slumbering orgasm.  
     “That will save her some of the trouble she is in for,” said Ms. Big’uns to herself, licking her lips clean. “She wasn’t a bad lady, and quite decent to the prisoners. It will puzzle them all too. They will think we had a very strong magic to pass through all those locked doors and disappear with our huge fat bodies. Disappear! We have got to get busy very quick, if that is to happen!”  
     Balloon was told off to watch the guard and the butler and give warning if they stirred. The rest went into the adjoining cellar with the trapdoors. There was little time to lose. Before long, as Belly-donna knew, some elves were under orders to come down and help the butler get the trade-goods into the barrels before sending them through the doors into the stream. These were in fact already standing in rows in the middle of the floor waiting to be filled and pushed off.Some of them were wine-barrels, and these were not much use, as they could not easily be opened at the end without a great deal of noise, nor could they easily be secured again. But among them were several others which were to be used for sending other stuffs, butter, apples, and all sorts of things, to Lake-town.  
     They soon found thirteen with room enough for a dwarf in each. At last twelve dwarves were stowed. More-in had given a lot of trouble, and turned and twisted in her tub and grumbled like a fat dog in a small kennel; while Balloon, who came last, made a great fuss about her air-holes and said she was stifling, even before her lid was on. Belly-donna had done what she could to close holes in the sides of the barrels, and to fix on all the lids as safely as could be managed, and now she was left alone again, running round putting the finishing touches to the packing, and hoping against hope that her plan would come off.  
     The last thing to be done was to put herself into a last barrel and hope that the elves would fix the sealing of the barrel for her. This she did, and not a bit too soon. Only a minute or two after she dropped the lid over her head there came a sound of voices and the flicker of lights. A number of elves came laughing and talking into the cellars and singing snatches of song. They had left a merry feast in one of the halls, that was clear from their well-stuffed and bulging stomachs, and were bent on returning as soon as they could. “Where’s old Galion, the butler?” said one. “I haven’t seen her at the tables tonight. She ought to be here now to show us what is to be done.”  
     “I shall be angry if the old slowcoach is late,” said another. “I have no wish to waste time down here while the banquet is eaten!”  
     “Ha, ha!” came a cry. “Here’s the little slut with her head on the captain’s fat belly! They’ve been having a little feast of their own, and some sex too.”  
     “Shake her! Wake her!” shouted the others impatiently. Galion was not at all pleased at being shaken or wakened, and still less at being laughed at. “You’re all late,” she grumbled. “Here I am waiting and waiting down here, while you lasses drink and eat and make merry and forget your tasks. Small wonder if I fall asleep from weariness!”  
     “Small wonder,” said they, “when the explanation stands close at hand in a jug, and on a plate! Come give us a taste of your sleeping-draught, and your feast, before we fall to! No need to wake the turnkey yonder. She has had her share, and more, by the looks of her belly.”  
     Then they drank once round, and stuffed their massive bellies just a little more, and became might merry all of a sudden. On their way from the little table to the loading area, each of them massaged the guard captain’s belly, tits, and pussy. But they did not lose their wits. “Save us, Galion!” cried some, “you began your feasting early and muddled your wits! You have stacked some casks here already filled instead of the empty ones, if there is anything in weight.”  
     “Get on with the work!” growled the butler. “There is nothing in the feeling of weight in an idle toss-pot’s arms. These are the ones to go and no others. Do as I say!”  
     “Very well, very well,” they answered gathering the foodstuffs to be sent to Lake-town, and wide-mouthed funnels to fill the barrels with.  
     Belly-donna grinned at the hoped-for bonus of her plan. Of course, the barrels were to be packed full of food for trade, and they were already filled with dwarves (and herself). Without knowing it, the elves would be stuffing the bellies of all fourteen of them as full as they could possibly get, and more!  
     Hearing the elves begin, Belly-donna began to squirm anxiously. Listening avidly, she heard the elves plant the funnel and pour the foodstuffs in one barrel after another. She even thought she could hear the dwarves groaning as their bellies were stuffed fuller and fatter, trapped inside their barrels. Clearly, this wasn’t possible; if she could hear them, inside her barrel, the elves could hear them too, and the game would be up. But it was exciting to imagine she heard the dwarves being crammed full like the barrels they hid in, waiting for her turn. She was too tightly packed in the barrel to reach herself, but she barely needed to anyway, nearing an orgasm simply from hearing the food pouring and imagining the stuffing happening to the dwarves.  
     Finally, Belly-donna heard the elves approach her barrel. Trembling, eager, she watched as they placed the funnel, and wrapped her lips around the spout, clamping tight to take in every last morsel. With the funnel reaching deep into her mouth, almost down her throat, she couldn’t really taste the incoming food, but as it entered her mouth and she gulped it down, it seemed quite solid but soft, maybe fruit of some kind. She immediately started cumming from the helpless stuffing she was forced into, and more and more followed in waves, not stopping as the elves continued stuffing her; she was totally helpless to resist the incoming deluge. The food kept coming, even speeding up, and Belly-donna swallowed it all down, desperately struggling now not to choke on the massive flow. She felt her belly expand as the food pushed into her, squeezing tightly against the walls of her barrel. Tighter and tighter her inflating belly pushed into the walls as more and more food poured into her. Tighter and tighter it pressed on her pussy, too, pulling even more continuing orgasms from her.  
     Fatter and tighter her belly grew, pushing against the container squeezing her. More and yet more food poured through the funnel down her throat, pushing her ballooning stomach even tighter against the walls. She quickly ran out of room, filling up every tiny part of her barrel, and still the avalanche of food came. Now Ms. Big’uns really started to become frightened as her belly still tried to expand to hold all the incoming mass, but found no space to grow. The barrel staves vibrated with the pressure her belly tried to push through, but they held. She wondered if her food craving had finally over-reached, and this would end her; but she had no influence left on what happened to her belly. She settled in; if she had to go, this was the way she’d always wished to.  
     Still more food came, pushing her tighter and tighter, now causing real pain as her still-inflating belly began to squeeze the rest of her fat body, trying to find space, any space, to fill. Lost in her endless orgasm of stuffing, Belly-donna screamed in pleasure through the incredible feeding, not caring the least about what might happen if her belly needed to grow beyond the span of the barrel.  
     Finally, the endless ecstasy of the stuffing ended, and Belly-donna wilted inside her now exceptionally tight barrel, panting in exhaustion after nearly 10 minutes of nonstop orgasms, just from the feeding.  
     The elves put away their loading equipment and sent first one barrel then another rumbling down to the dark opening and pushed them into the cold water some feet below, singing as they did.

> _Roll-roll-roll-roll,_  
>  _roll-roll-rolling down the hole!_  
>  _Heave ho! Splash plump!_  
>  _Down they go, down they bump!_

     Some barrels were packed with trade-goods, some were tubs neatly packed with a dwarf (or Ms. Big’uns) each stuffed as full as they could possibly get, some were really empty; but down they all went, one after another, with many a clash and a bump, thudding on top of ones below, smacking into the water, jostling against the walls of the tunnel, knocking into one another, and bobbing away down the current.  
     It was just at this moment that Belly-donna suddenly discovered the weak point in her plan. Most likely you saw it some time ago and have been laughing at her; but I don’t suppose you would have done half as well yourselves in her place. And you couldn’t have taken the sheer volume of the stuffing that Ms. Big’uns (and the dwarves) were forced to. Of course there was no one to take them out of the barrels again once they were free of the caves, before they arrived at Lake-town surrounded by Men. She did not know what to do about that. She could only hope that the Lake-men were friendly to her and the dwarves, and would not return them to the elves’ dungeons. While all these thoughts were passing through her mind, the elves being very merry (and a bit tipsy as well as being well-stuffed and pleased about it) began to sing a song round the river-door. Some had already gone to haul on the ropes which pulled up the portcullis at the water-gate so as to let out the barrels as soon as they were all afloat below.

> _Down the swift dark stream you go_  
>  _Back to lands you once did know!_  
>  _Leave the halls and caverns deep,_  
>  _Leave the northern mountains steep,_  
>  _Where the forest wide and dim_  
>  _Stoops in shadow gray and grim!_  
>  _Float beyond the world of trees_  
>  _Out into the whispering breeze,_  
>  _Past the rushes, past the reeds,_  
>  _Past the marsh’s waving weeds,_  
>  _Thought the mist that riseth white_  
>  _Up from mere and pool at night!_  
>  _Follow, follow stars that leap_  
>  _Up the heavens cold and steep;_  
>  _Turn when dawn comes over land,_  
>  _Over rapid, over sand,_  
>  _South away! and South away!_  
>  _Seek the sunlight and the day,_  
>  _Back to table, back to mead,_  
>  _where the Men and Elves can eat!_  
>  _Back to gardens on the hills_  
>  _Where the belly swells and fills_  
>  _Under sunlight, under day!_  
>  _South away! and South away!_  
>  _Down the swift dark stream you go_  
>  _Back to lands you once did know!_

     The elves had not sealed her barrel better than she could, and water began to trickle in around the end. She heard the creak of the water-gate being hauled up, and her barrel bobbed and bumped in the midst of a mass of casks and tubs all pressing together to get out into the open stream.  
     Out they went under the overhanging branches of the trees on either bank. Belly-donna wondered what the dwarves were feeling and whether a lot of water was getting into their tubs, as indeed it was in hers. “I do hope I put the lids on tight enough!” she thought, but before long she was worrying too much about herself to remember the dwarves. The water began to leak in faster, pooling around her head, and soon she had to drink it all, filling her belly tighter than ever, to prevent it from drowning her inside her barrel. She knew not where her belly found the room to take in the river-water, or how long she could drink more, but she had no choice; she had to take it all in or drown under the pouring water. Her belly grew painfully tight in the barrel, and still more water came. Desperate now, she gulped down the steadily, and steadily increasing, leaking water as it tried to cover her face.  
     The whole night long, more and still more water seeped into her barrel, and Belly-donna had to keep slurping it down, inflating her belly like a water-balloon. When she could think, she worried that she would be too bloated with water, and food, to squeeze out of the barrel, if ever she got a chance.  
     The luck turned all right before morning: the eddying current carried several barrels close ashore at one point and there for a while they stuck against some hidden root. Then Belly-donna’s barrel got slammed by another, and the staves, unable to bounce and recoil (jammed as they were solidly against the hobbit’s hugely bloated belly) cracked and burst asunder, spilling Belly-donna out into the cold water of the river. Up she crawled like a fat, drowned rat, and lay on the top of another barrel spread out to keep the balance as best she could. The breeze was cold but better than the water, and she hoped she would not suddenly roll off again when they started off once more. Before long, the barrels broke free again and turned and twisted off down the stream, and out into the main current. Then she found it quite as difficult to stick on as she had feared; but she managed it somehow, though it was miserably uncomfortable with her bloated water-balloon belly and weighed down with the huge load of food. All the same it was like trying to ride, without bridle or stirrups, a round-bellied pony that was always thinking of rolling on the grass. In this way at last Ms. Big’uns came to a place where the trees on either hand grew thinner. She could see the paler sky between them. The dark river opened suddenly wide, and there it joined to the main water of the Forest River flowing down in haste from the queen’s great doors. There was a dim sheet of water no longer overshadowed, and on its sliding surface there were dancing and broken reflections of clouds and of stars. Then the hurrying water of the Forest River swept all the company of casks and tubs away to the north bank, in which it had eaten out a wide bay. This had a shingly shore under hanging banks and was walled at the eastern end by a little jutting cape of hard rock. On the shallow shore more of the barrels ran aground, though a few went on to bump against the stony pier.  
     There were people on the look-out on the banks. They quickly poled and pushed all the barrels together into the shallows, and when they had counted them they roped them together and left them till the morning. Poor dwarves! Belly-donna was not so badly off now. She slipped from her barrel and waded ashore, and then sneaked along to some huts that she could see near the water’s edge. She no longer thought twice about picking up supper uninvited if she got the chance (not that she really ever had before), she had been obliged to do it for so long, and she knew only too well what it was to be really hungry, not merely politely interested in totally emptying out a well-filled larder. Also she had caught a glimpse of a fire through the trees, and that appealed to her with her dripping and ragged clothes clinging to her cold, clammy and bursting at seams.  
     There is no need to tell you much of her adventures that night, for now we are drawing near the end of the eastward journey and coming to the last and greatest adventure, so we must hurry on. Of course helped by her magic ring she got on very well at first, stuffing herself with whatever she could find; but she was given away in the end because she began to snivel, and wherever she tried to hide she was found out by the terrific explosions of her suppressed sneezes. Very soon there was a fine commotion in the village by the riverside; but Belly-donna escaped into the woods carrying many loaves and several leather bottles of wine and pies aplenty that did not belong to her. The rest of the night she had to pass wet as she was and far from a fire, but the bottles helped her to do that, and she happily stuffed and fingered herself long into the night. When she finally finished her self-pleasure, she actually dozed a little on some dry leaves, laying on her back with her gargantuan, tightly packed belly rising above her easily her own height, and one hand resting on a tit, squeezing it and pinching the nipple almost reflexively, and the other massaging her stuffed belly.  
     She woke again with a specially loud sneeze. It was already gray morning, and there was a merry racket down by the river. They were making up a raft of barrels, and the raft-elves would soon be steering it off down the stream to Lake-town. Belly-donna sneezed again. She was no longer dripping but she felt cold all over, even through her thick insulating layer of her own blubber. She scrambled down as fast as her bulging belly would allow and managed just in time to get on to the mass of casks without being noticed in the general bustle. Luckily there was no sun at the time to light the corner where she hid, and for a mercy she did not sneeze again for a good while.  
     There was a mighty pushing of poles. The elves that were standing in the shallow water heaved and shoved. The barrels now all lashed together creaked and fretted.  
     “This is a heavy load!” some grumbled. “A huge trading shipment it is. If they had come ashore in daylight, we might have had a look inside to see what all there is,” they said.  
     “No time now!” cried the raftman. “Shove off!”  
     And off they went at last, slowly at first, until they passed the point of rock where other elves stood to fend them off with poles, and then quicker and quicker as they caught the main stream and went sailing away down, down towards the Lake.  
     They had escaped the dungeons of the queen and were through the wood, but whether alive or dead still remains to be seen.


	10. A Feast Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna and the dwarves go to Lake-town. Rest, healing, and of course lots of feeding and sex are had.

     The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. After a while the river rounded a steep shoulder of land that came down upon their left. Under its rocky feet like an inland cliff the deepest stream had flowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank. The trees ended. Then Belly-donna saw a sight: The lands opened wide about her, filled with the waters of the river which broke up and wandered in a hundred winding courses, or halted in marshes and pools dotted with isles on every side: but still a strong water flowed on steadily through the midst. And far away. its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain! Its nearest neighbors to the North-East and the tumbled land that joined it to them could not be seen. All alone it rose and looked across the marshes to the forest. The Lonely Mountain! Belly-donna had come far and through many feedings and stuffings to see it, and now she did not like the look of it in the least.  
     As she listened to the talk of the raftmen and pieced together the scraps of information they let fall between huge mouthfuls of food, she soon realized that she was very fortunate ever to have seen it at all, even from this distance. Dreary as had been her imprisonment and unpleasant as was her position (to say nothing of the poor dwarves underneath her) still, she had been more lucky than she had guessed. The talk was all of the trade that came and went on the waterways and the growth of the traffic on the river, as the roads out of the East towards Gorge-wood vanished or fell into disuse; and of the bickerings of the Lake-men and the Wood-elves about the upkeep of the Forest River and the care of the banks.  
     Those lands had changed much since the days when the dwarves dwelt and feasted in the Mountain, days which most people now remembered only as a very shadowy tradition. They had changed even in recent years, and since the last news that Lardass had had of them. Great floods and rains had swollen the waters that flowed east; and there had been an earthquake or two (which some were inclined to attribute to the dragon- alluding to her chiefly with a curse and an ominous nod in the direction of the Mountain). The marshes and bogs had spread wider and wider on either side. Paths had vanished, and many a rider and wanderer too, if they tried to find the lost ways across. The elf-road through the wood which the dwarves had followed on the advice of Big-one now came to a doubtful and little used end at the eastern edge of the forest; only the river offered any longer a safe way from the skirts of Gorge-wood in the North to the mountain-shadowed plains beyond, and the river was guarded by the Wood-elves’ queen.  
     So you see Belly-donna had come in the end by the only road that was any good. It might have been some comfort to Ms. Big’uns shivering on the barrels, if she had known that news of this had reached Lardass far away and given her great anxiety (which she had to soothe by stuffing herself for nearly a full day), and that she was in fact finishing her other business (which does not come into this tale) and getting ready to come in search of More-in’s company. But Belly-donna did not know it.  
     All she knew was that the river seemed to go on and on for ever, and she was hungry, and had a nasty cold in the nose, and did not like the way the Mountain seemed to frown at her and threaten her as it drew ever nearer. After a while, however, the river took a more southerly course and the Mountain receded again, and at last, late in the day the shores grew rocky, the river gathered all its wandering waters together into a deep and rapid flood, and they swept along at great speed.  
     The sun had set when turning with another sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There it had a wide mouth with stony clifflike gates at either side whose feet were piled with shingles. The Long Lake! Belly-donna had never imagined that any water that was not the sea could look so big. It was so wide that the opposite shores looked small and far, but it was so long that its northerly end, which pointed towards the Mountain, could not be seen at all. Only from the map did Belly-donna know that way up there, where the stars of the Wain were already twinkling, the Running River came down into the lake from Dale and with the Forest River filled with deep waters what must have been a great deep rocky valley. At the southern end the doubled waters poured out again over high waterfalls and ran away hurriedly to unknown lands. In the still evening air the noise of the falls could be heard like a distant roar.  
     Not far from the mouth of the Forest River was the strange town she heard the elves speak of in the queen’s cellars. It was not built on the shore, though there were a few huts and buildings there, but right out on the surface of the lake, protected from the swirl of the entering river by a promontory of rock like a huge belly which formed a calm bay. A great bridge made of wood ran out to where on huge piles made of forest trees was built a busy wooden town, not a town of elves but of Men, who still dared to dwell here under the shadow of the distant dragon-mountain. They still throve on the trade that came up the great river from the South and was carted past the falls to their town; but in the great days of old, when Dale in the North was rich and prosperous, they had been wealthy and powerful, and there had been fleets of boats on the waters, and some were filled with gold and some with foods innumerable in great loads, and there had feasts and deeds which now were only a legend. The rotting piles of a greater town could still be seen along the shores when the waters sank in a drought.  
     But men remembered little of all that, though some still sang old songs of the dwarf-queens of the Mountain, Forker and Gain of the race of Diner, and of the coming of the Dragon, and the fall of the lords of Date. Some sang too that Forker and Gain would come back one day and wine would flow in rivers through the mountain-gates, and all that land would be filled with new feasts and new stuffing. But this pleasant legend did not much affect their daily business.  
     As soon as the raft of barrels came in sight boats rowed out from the piles of the town, and voices hailed the raft-steerers. Then ropes were cast and oars were pulled, and soon the raft was drawn out of the current of the Forest River and towed away round the bulging belly of rock into the little bay of Lake-town. There it was moored not far from the shoreward head of the great bridge. Soon men would come up from the South and take some of the casks away, and others they would fill with foods they had brought to be taken back up the stream to the Wood-elves’ home. In the meanwhile the barrels were left afloat while the elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town.  
     They would have been surprised, if they could have seen what happened down by the shore, after they had gone and the shades of night had fallen. First of all, a barrel was cut loose by Belly-donna and pushed to the shore and opened. Groans came from inside, and out crept a most unhappy dwarf. Food scraps were in her moistened cleavage; she was so full and stuffed, so bulging and bloated she could hardly get out of the barrel or stumble through the shallow water to lie groaning on the shore, cradling her huge belly, rising high above her prone form and panting with the weight her still-stuffed-to-absolute-limit belly. It was More-in, but you could only have told it by her golden chain, and by the color of her now dirty and tattered sky-blue hood with its tarnished silver tassel. It was some time before she would even be polite to the hobbit.  
     “Well, are you alive or dead? Did you have a most spectacular stuffing or not? Didn’t you get off on the stuffings, and maybe by twitching your nether regions against your barrels? I certainly did,” asked Belly-donna quite crossly. Perhaps she had forgotten that she had had at least one huge meal more than the dwarves of her own volition, and also the use of her arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. “Are you still in prison or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to go on with this silly adventure- it’s yours after all and not mine- you had better slap your arms and rub your legs, and your belly too, and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!”  
     More-in of course saw the sense of this, so after a few more groans she heaved her fat belly up and helped the hobbit as well as she could. In the darkness floundering in the cold water they had a difficult and nasty job finding which were the right barrels. Knocking outside and calling only discovered about six dwarves that could answer; they were so soaked and bloated and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release or be properly thankful for it.  
     D’widen and Balloon were two of the most unhappy, and it was no good asking them to help. Bigger and Blogger were less knocked about and drier, but they were so stuffed and bloated they could barely move, and lay down and would do nothing. Feedee and Foodie, however, who were young (for dwarves) and had also been stuffed much larger and so were packed tighter into smaller casks, came out more or less smiling, with only a bruise or two and a stiffness that soon wore off.  
     “I hope I get to do that again!” said Feedee, rubbing one hand over her gigantically stuffed belly and tits above, and plunging the other deep inside her own pussy. “I was forced full of apples, and so gorged I couldn’t even move. To eat apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move already, and are growing bigger and fatter with each passing second was the most incredible feast I’ve ever had! I could eat anything in the wide world now, for hours on end, and especially more apples! This is the first time I’ve been able to get myself off properly since then! I’ve had to content myself with wriggling against my swollen legs!”  
     With the willing help of Feedee and Foodie (once they had finished pleasuring themselves), More-in and Belly-donna at last discovered the remainder of the company and got them out. Poor bloated Bom-berry was asleep or senseless; Feeder, Treater, Eater, Gut and Glut were waterlogged and seemed only half alive; they all had to be carried one by one and laid helpless on the shore.  
     “Well! Here we are!” said More-in. “And I suppose we ought to thank our stars and Ms. Big’uns. I am sure she has a right to expect it, though I wish she could have arranged a more comfortable journey, filling though it was. Still- all very much at your service once more, Ms. Big’uns. No doubt we shall feel properly grateful, when we are recovered and have fed some more. In the meanwhile what next?”  
     “I suggest Lake-town,” said Belly-donna. “What else is there?” Nothing else could, of course, be suggested; so leaving the others More-in and Feedee and Foodie and the hobbit went along the shore to the great bridge. There were guards at the head of it, but they were not keeping very careful watch, for it was so long since there and been any real need. Except for occasional squabbles about river-tolls they were friends with the Wood-elves. Other folk were far away; and some of the younger people in the town openly doubted the existence of any dragon in the mountain, and laughed at the greybeards and gammers who said that they had seen her flying in the sky in their younger days. That being so it is not surprising that the guards were busy stuffing their faces and bellies and fingering each other and licking their bellies, paying little attention to anything else, and did not hear the noise of the unpacking of the dwarves or the footsteps of the four scouts. Their astonishment was enormous (nearly as enormous as their bellies) when More-in Oakenbowl stepped in through the door.  
     “Who are you and what do you want?” they shouted leaping to their feet and groping for their clothes.  
     “More-in daughter of Gain daughter of Forker Queen under the Mountain!” said the dwarf in a loud voice and she looked it, in spite of her torn clothes and draggled hood. The gold gleamed on her neck and voluminous waist: her eyes were dark and deep. “I have come back. I wish to see the Mistress of your town!”  
     Then there was tremendous excitement. Some of the more foolish ran out of the hut, still nude, as if they expected the Mountain to go golden in the night and all the waters of the lake to turn to wine right away. The captain of the guard came forward.  
     “And who are these?” she asked, pointing to Feedee and Foodie and Belly-donna.  
     “The daughters of my mother’s sister,” answered More-in. “Feedee and Foodie or the race of Diner, and Ms. Big’uns who has travelled with us out of the West.”  
     “If you come in peace lay down your arms!” said the captain.  
     “We have none,” said More-in, and it was true enough: their knives had been taken from them by the wood-elves, and the great cleaver Aescrist too. Belly-donna had her little fry-pan, hidden as usual, but she said nothing about that. “We have no need of weapons, who return at last to our own as spoken of old. Also, look at my clothing; where could I have carried any arms, stuffed up my vag? But no matter. Take us to your mistress!”  
     “She is at feast,” said the captain.  
     “Then all the more reason for taking us to her,” burst in Feedee, who was getting impatient at these solemnities. “We are worn and famished after our long road and we have sick comrades. Now make haste and let us have no more words, or your mistress may have something to say to you.”  
     “Follow me then,” said the captain, and with six women about them she led them over the bridge through the gates and into the market-place of the town. This was a wide circle of quiet water surrounded by the tall piles on which were built the greater houses, and by long wooden quay with many steps and ladders going down to the surface of the lake. From one great hall shone many lights and there came the sound of many voices. They passed its doors and stood blinking in the light looking at long tables filled with folk. Not a few tables had empty seats, and when More-in burst in, surprised heads popped up from between the legs of their neighbors, wiping off their lips.  
     “I am More-in daughter of Gain daughter of Forker Queen under the Mountain! I return!” cried More-in in a loud voice from the door, before the captain could say anything. All leaped to their feet. The Mistress of the town sprang from her great chair. But none rose in greater surprise than the raft-men of the elves who were sitting at the lower end of the hall. Pressing forward before the Mistress’s table they cried:  
     “These are prisoners of our queen that have escaped, wandering vagabond dwarves that could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people!”  
     “Is this true?” asked the Mistress. As a matter of fact she thought it far more likely than the return of the Queen under the Mountain, if any such person had ever existed.  
     “It is true that we were wrongfully waylaid by the Elven-queen and imprisoned without cause as we journeyed back to our own land,” answered More-in. “But lock nor bar may hinder the homecoming spoken of old. Nor is this town in the Wood-elves’ realm. I speak to the Mistress of the town of the Men of the lake, not to the raft-men of the queen.”  
     Then the Mistress hesitated and looked from one to the other. The Elven-queen was very powerful in those parts and the Mistress wished for no enmity with her, nor did she think much of old songs, giving her mind to trade and tolls, to feast and foods, to which habit she owed her position, and her ample girth. Others were of a different mind, however, and quickly the matter was settled without her. The news had spread from the doors of the hall like fire through all the town. People were shouting inside the hall and outside it. They quays were thronged with hurrying feet. Some began to sing snatches of old songs concerning the return of the Queen under the Mountain; that it was Forker’s granddaughter not Forker herself that had come back did not bother them at all. Others took up the song and it rolled loud and high over the lake.

> _The Queen beneath the mountains,_  
>  _The Queen of bellies’ gain,_  
>  _Lord of wine and ale fountains_  
>  _Shall reclaim her domain!_  
>  _Her belly shall be swollen,_  
>  _Her cutlery sharpened,_  
>  _Her halls shall echo golden_  
>  _With bellies overburdened._  
>  _The woods shall wave on banquets_  
>  _And drinks beneath the sun;_  
>  _Her wine shall flow in fountains_  
>  _And the rivers with mead run._  
>  _The bellies bulge in fullness,_  
>  _The stoves shall shine and burn,_  
>  _And thirst shall fail and hunger_  
>  _At the Mountain-Queen’s return!_  
> 

  
     So they sang, or very like that, only there was a great deal more of it, and there was much shouting as well as the music of harps and of fiddles mixed up with it. Indeed such excitement had not been known in the town in the memory of the oldest grandmother. The Wood-elves themselves began to wonder greatly and even to be afraid. They did not know of course how More-in had escaped, and they began to think their queen might have made a serious mistake. As for the Mistress she saw there was nothing else for it but to obey the general clamor, for the moment at any rate, and to pretend to believe that More-in was what she said. So she gave up to her her own great chair and set Feedee and Foodie beside her in places of honor. Even Belly-donna was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where she came in- no songs had alluded to her even in the obscurest way- was asked for in the general bustle.  
     Soon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and fed and pampered and fed in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion, and as much food as even they could possibly crave. A large house with a fully-stocked kitchen was given up to More-in and her company, with even more food available at a word; cooks and feeders were put at their service (and used quite well; hardly an hour went by without one dwarf or another, or the hobbit, engaging them for a massive stuffing session); and crowds sat outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any dwarf showed so so much as her belly. And thanks to the feeders and cooks, those bellies grew truly full and immense indeed, much larger than even after their forceful stuffing by the trolls, or their unwitting feeding by the Wood-elves, or even both together. Bom-berry especially could barely walk at all, so massive grew her belly, and Belly-donna outgrew even her wildest fantasies from before her adventures, so packed full and bloated with food that she was rendered immobile shortly after their stay in Lake-town began, with her belly covering up her legs even those time when she could stand, flowing down nearly to the floor. She was so stuffed, every moment, that her belly bulged sideways so far that it was wider than she was tall, and kept her arms nearly horizontal, resting on the top of her massive stomach’s extensive curve.  
     A few of the more enthusiastic townsfolk dared to approach the dwarves’ door and offer themselves in service for the dwarves’ stay. Happily, they were accepted and the dwarves (and hobbit) quickly found a use for them as sexual partners. While a dwarf was being stuffed with food by a feeder, she would have a woman from the town rub her expanding belly, or dig underneath it, eating her out. Sometimes, a dwarf would grab a huge pile of food and feed the servant, while she got herself off manually while watching the woman expand. Once or twice, the dwarf went so far with the stuffing that the woman would be so bloated by the feeding that she could only lay dazed, panting and rubbing her painfully-overfilled belly. Ms. Big’uns took four of the servants to fill her up all together, while two more sucked on her nipples and a third crawled under her already-huge belly and fingered and ate her out.  
     Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and of cargoes of rich foods coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Mistress and they did not particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat and strong again, even fatter than they had yet achieved on their journey and its many feastings. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colors, with room to expand themselves even more, and proud steps. More-in looked and waddled as if her kingdom was already regained and Scarf-down chopped up into little pieces and consumed.  
     Then, as she had said, the dwarves’ good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day. There were no more groans or grumbles. They dranks her health, and they patted her on her gargantuan belly (taking some pleasure themselves in the endless ripples and waves they caused in the oceanic fat), and they made a great fuss of her, they even sent the servants away and catered to her every stuffing and sexaul whim themselves, stuffing her more than that first night at her hole, and fingering and tonguing and licking and sucking her all over her obese and swelling body; which was just as well, for she was not feeling particularly cheerful, eternally stuffed though she was. She had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon (try though she did to drown them with endless eating), and she had besides a shocking cold. For three days she sneezed and coughed, and she could not go out, and even after that her speeches at the many sumptuous banquets were limited to “Thag * _munch_ * you * _gulp_ * very * _burp_ * buch.”  
     In the meanwhile the Wood-elves had gone back up the Forest River with their cargoes, and there was great excitement in the queen’s palace. I have never heard what happened to the chief of the guards and the butler, though I suspect they were both force-fed to gargantuan size, unable to move at all, indeed with their arms and legs enveloped by their hugely obese bodies, since their stuffing session had happened at the same time as the dwarves’ escape, and the queen thought must have something to do with it, though there was no way to know for certain. Nothing of course was ever said about keys or barrels while the dwarves stayed and feasted in Lake-town, and Belly-donna was careful never to indulge her feeding more than a usual amount, nor to even accidentally command anyone to stuff themselves. Still, I daresay, more was guessed than was known, though doubtless Ms. Big’uns remained a bit of a mystery. In any case the queen knew now the dwarves’ errand, or thought she did, and she said to herself:  
     “Very well! We’ll see! No treasure of food will come back through Gorge-wood without my having something to say in the mater. But I expect they will all come to a bad end, and serve them right!” She at any rate did not believe in dwarves fighting and killing dragons like Scarf-down, and she strongly suspected attempted burglary or something like it which shows she was a wise elf and wiser than the men of the town, though not quite right, as we shall see in the end. She sent out her spies about the shores of the lake and as far northwards towards the Mountain as they would go, and waited.  
     At the end of a fortnight More-in began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay, and besides, if they stayed and feasted much more, they would all be far too fat to ride ponies, much less achieve any burglary where the dragon was concerned. So she spoke to the Mistress and her councillors and said that soon she and her company must go on towards the Mountain.  
     On hearing this, Belly-donna exerted her last shred of willpower and started to eat less, and even to slim down to regain her mobility (the only benefit she had to this was an increase in her sexual activities with the townsfolk, as exercise); she knew the dwarves would call on her services once they reached the Mountain.  
     Then for the first time the Mistress was surprised and a little frightened; and she wondered if More-in was after all really a descendent of the old queens. She had never thought that the dwarves would actually dare to approach Scarf-down, but believed they were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. More-in, of course, was really the granddaughter of the Queen under the Mountain, and there is no knowing what a dwarf will not dare and do or revenge or the recovery of her own. But the Mistress was not sorry at all to let them go. They were expensive to feed, and their arrival had turned things into a long holiday in which much feeding was done but business was at a standstill.  
     “Let them go and bother Scarf-down, and see how she welcomes them!” she thought. “Certainly, O More-in Gain’s daughter Forker’s daughter!” was what she said. “You must claim your own. The hour is at hand, spoken of old. What help we can offer shall be yours, and we trust to your gratitude when your kingdom and pantries are regained.”  
     So one day, although autumn was now getting far on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, dwarves, Ms. Big’uns, and many many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing-place. The Mistress and her councillors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their long journey. The only person thoroughly unhappy was Belly-donna, stuffed to capacity though she was by their last farewell feast. 


	11. Stuffing on the Doorstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the Mountain, eat voraciously, have mindless sex, and also find the secret door.

     In two days going they rowed right up the Long Lake and passed out into the River Running, and now they could see the Lonely Mountain towering grim and tall before them. The stream was strong and their going slow. At the end of the third day, some miles up the river, they drew in to the left or western bank and disembarked. Here they were joined by horses with other provisions and necessaries and the ponies for their own use that had been sent to meet them. They packed what they could on the ponies and the rest was made into a store under a tent, but none of the men of the town would stay with them even for the night so near the shadow of the Mountain.  
     “Not at any rate until the songs have come true!” said they. It was easier to believe in the Dragon and less easy to believe in More-in in these wild parts. Indeed their stores had no need of any guard, for all the land was desolate and empty. So their escort left them, making off swiftly down the river and the shoreward paths, although the night was already drawing on.  
     They spent a cold and lonely night and their spirits fell. As the night went on, they ate a huge portion of their stores, stuffing themselves and each other in an effort to keep their spirits up. The whole night through, one dwarf or another would stuff herself, bloating her belly out far from her body, straining her clothing. Then another dwarf would stuff that one, blowing her up even larger, until she exploded out of her shredding clothes, her expanding belly and inflating tits wobbling with the force of popping the seams. One by one, all the dwarves, and the hobbit too, were stripped nude in just this way. Once all were naked and ballooned, they made sure that the food kept flowing down every throat, but added massages and suckling on all and sundry. Mouths, when not stuffed full to overflowing, would latch onto nipples, or lick tight belly-flesh, or dive below to eat out pussies. Hands not busy stuffing food in mouths, would rub bellies, and pinch and tweak nipples, and finger pussies. The sounds of chewing and swallowing mixed with the audible stretching of stomach-skin, and the sighs and moans of orgasms.All the night through, the whole party of fourteen kept feeding, and pleasuring, one another, until one by one they fell exhausted to sleep.  
     The next day, well and truly fattened and bulging, they dressed in new, larger clothes and set out again. Balloon and Belly-donna rode behind, each leading several ponies heavily laden; the others were some way ahead picking out a slow road, for there were no paths. They made north-west, slanting away from the River Running, and drawing ever nearer and nearer to a great spur of the Mountain that was flung out southwards towards them.  
     It was a weary journey, and a quiet and stealthy one. There was no laughter or song or sound of harps, though they fed constantly to stave off the desolation and the silence, and the pride and hopes which had stirred in their hearts at the singing of old songs by the lake died away to a plodding gloom, in spite of their continually stuffed stomachs. They knew that they were drawing near to the end of their journey, and that it might be a very horrible end. That thought itself made them eat even more, blowing up larger than ever. The land about them grew bleak and barren, though once, as More-in told them, it had been green and fair, teeming with fruit trees and fields of crops and many other foodstuffs. There was little grass, and before long there was neither bush nor tree, and only broken and blackened stumps to speak of ones long vanished. They were come to the Desolation of the Dragon, and they were come at the waning of the year.  
     They reached the skirts of the Mountain all the same without meeting any danger or any sign of the Dragon other than the wilderness she had made about her lair. The Mountain lay dark and silent before them and ever higher above them, rising like their own ever-expanding stomachs as they neared. They made their first camp on the western side of the great southern spur, which ended in a height called Ravenhill. On this there had been an old watch-post; but they dared not climb it yet, it was too exposed.  
     Before setting out to search the western spurs of the Mountain for the hidden door, on which all their hopes rested, More-in sent a scouting expedition to spy out the land to the South where the Front Gate stood. For this purpose she chose Balloon and Feedee and Foodie, and with them went Belly-donna. They marched under the gray and silent cliffs to the feet of Ravenhill. There the river, after winding a wide loop over the valley of Dale, turned from the Mountain on its road to the Lake, flowing swift and noisily. Its bank was bare and rocky, tall and steep above the stream; and gazing out from it over the narrow water, foaming and splashing among many boulders, they could see in the wide valley shadowed by the Mountain’s arms the gray ruins of ancient houses, towers, and walls.  
     “There lies all that is left of Dale,” said Balloon. “The mountain’s sides were green with woods and all the sheltered valley rich and pleasant in the days when the cooks sang in that town.” She looked both sad and grim as she said this: she had been one of More-in’s companions on the day the Dragon came.  
     They did not dare to follow the river much further towards the Gate; but they went on beyond the end of the southern spur, until lying hidden behind a rock they could look out and see the dark cavernous opening in a great cliff-wall between the arms of the Mountain. Out of it the waters of the Running River sprang; and out of it too there came a steam and a dark smoke. Nothing moved in the waste, save the vapor and the water, and every now and again a black and ominous crow. The only sound was the sound of the stony water, and every now and again the harsh croak of a bird. Balloon shuddered, sending waves and ripples over her bloated body.  
     “Let us return!” she said. “We can do no good here! -- And I don’t like these dark birds, they look like spies of evil.”  
     “The dragon is still alive and in the halls under the Mountain then- or I imagine so from the smoke,” said the hobbit.  
     “That does not prove it,” said Balloon, “thought I don’t doubt you are right. But she might be gone away some time, or she might be lying out on the mountain-side keeping watch, and still I expect smokes and steams would come out of the gates: all the halls within must be filled with her foul reek.”  
     With such gloomy thoughts, followed ever by croaking crows above them, they made their weary way back to the camp. Only in June they had been guests in the fair house of Enedrond, and though autumn was now crawling towards winter that pleasant time now seemed years ago. They were alone in the perilous waste without hope of further help. They were at the end of their journey, but as far as ever, it seemed, from the end of their quest. None of them had much spirit left.  
     They spent much time packing food away, eating almost without cease, trying to stave off their despair. Hour after hour, they stuffed their bellies, and each others’, growing ever fatter and with tighter and tighter bellies as they tried to eat away their despondency. Before very long, their clothes grew tight and seams popped as the fabric struggled to contain their mounting bodies. This time, each dwarf (and hobbit) took care of herself, fingering and rubbing her own body all over; rubbing over her bulging breastflesh and balllooned bellies, tweaking and pinching her nipples, and of course digging underneath her own still-inflating belly to drive her fingers, and some of them, their entire hand, into their pussies, driving for their clits, and making themselves cum loudly around the food pouring down all their throats.  
     Now strange to say (or perhaps not, as she ate, and came, even more than any of the dwarves) Ms. Big’uns had more spirit than the others. She would often borrow More-in’s map and gaze at it as she crammed food down, pondering over the runes and the message of the grease-letters Enedrond had read. It was she that made the dwarves begin the dangerous search on the western slopes for the secret door. They moved their camp then to a long valley, narrower than the great dale in the South where the Gates of the river stood, and walled with lower spurs of the Mountain. Two of these were thrust forward west from the main mass in long steep-sided ridges that fell ever downwards toward the plain. On this western side there were fewer signs of the dragon’s marauding feet, and there was some grass for their ponies. From this western camp, shadowed all day by cliff and wall until the sun began to sink towards the forest, day by day they toiled in parties searching for paths up the mountain-sides, and ate when they weren’t searching. If the map was true, somewhere high above the cliff at the valley’s head must stand the secret door. Day by day they came back to their camp without success, and ate away their disappointment, stuffing themselves long into the night until they fell into exhausted sleep, their bellies piling up high and packed full above them.  
     But at last unexpectedly they found what they were seeking. Feedee and Foodie and the hobbit went back one day down the valley and scrambled along the tumbled rocks at its southern corner. About midday, creeping behind a great stone that stood alone like a pillar, looking for a safe place to eat lunch, Belly-donna came on what looked like rough steps going upwards. Following these excitedly she and the dwarves found traces of a narrow track, often lost, often rediscovered, that wandered on to the top of the southern ridge and brought them at last to a still narrower ledge, which turned north across the face of the Mountain. Looking down they saw that they were at the top of the cliff at the valley’s head and were gazing down on to their own camp below. Silently, clinging to the rocky wall on their right, they went in single file along the ledge, till the wall opened and they turned into a little steep-walled bay, grassy-floored, still and quiet. Its entrance which they had found could not be seen from below because of the overhang of the cliff, nor from further off because it was so small that it looked like a dark crack and no more. It was not a cave and was open to the sky above; but at its inner end a flat wall rose up that in the lower part, close to the ground, was as smooth and upright as mason’s work, but without a joint or crevice to be seen.  
     No sign was there of post or lintel or threshold, nor any sign of bar or bolt or key-hole; yet they did not doubt that they had found the door at last.  
     They beat on it, they thrust and pushed at it, they implored it to move, they spoke fragments of broken spells of opening, and nothing stirred. At last tired out, they rested on the grass at its feet and had a sizable meal from the overstuffed packs of food they all carried always, and at evening began their long climb down.  
     There was excitement in the camp that night, and a huge celebratory meal. Stuffed to the limit, they slept, moaning with their complete fullness. In the morning they prepared to move once more. Only Blogger and Bom-berry were left behind to guard the ponies and such stores as they had left from the river. The others went down the valley and up the newly found path, and so to the narrow ledge. Along this they could carry no bundles or packs, so close to their own broad girth was it, with a fall of a hundred and fifty feet beside them on to sharp rocks below; but each of them took a good coil of rope wound tight about her waist, and so at last without mishap they reached the little grassy bay.  
     There they made their third camp, hauling up all the food they needed from below with their ropes. Down the same way they were able to occasionally lower one of the more active dwarves, such as Foodie, to exchange such news as there was, or to take a share in the guard, while Blogger was hauled up to the higher camp, to post details of the progress on her site. Bom-berry would not come up either the rope or the path.  
     “I am too fat and bloated for such fly-walks,” she said. “I should turn dizzy or slosh my belly the wrong way, and they you would be thirteen again. And the knotted ropes are too slender for my weight.” Luckily for her that was not true, as you will see.  
     In the meanwhile some of them explored the ledge beyond the opening and found a path that led higher and higher on the mountain; but they did not dare to venture very far that way, nor was there much use in it. Out up there a silence reigned, broken by no bird or sound except that of the wind in the crannies of stone. They spoke low and never called or sang, for danger brooded in every rock. Even the incessant eating was done quietly, chewing with mouths closed and swallowing as silently as they could.  
     The others who were busy with the secret of the door had no more success. They were too eager to trouble about the runes or the grease-letters, but tried without resting to discover where exactly in the smooth face of the rock the door was hidden. They had brought picks and tools of many sorts from Lake-town, not just cooking and eating utensils, and at first they tried to use these. But when they struck the stone the handles splintered and jarred their arms cruelly, and the steel heads broke or bent like lead. Mining work, they saw clearly was no good against the magic that had shut the door; and they grew terrified, too, of the echoing noise.  
     Belly-donna found sitting on the doorstep lonesome and wearisome, stuff her mouth though she did, and constantly- there was not a doorstep, of course, really, but they used to call the little grassy space between the wall and the opening in fun, remembering Belly-donna’s words long ago at the unexpected feeding in her hobbit-hole, when she said they could sit on the doorstep till they thought of something. And sit and think they did, or wandered aimlessly about, and glummer and glummer they became, continual stuffing and gorging, and fingering, or not.  
Their spirits had risen a little at the discovery of the path, but now they sank into their boots; and yet they would not give it up and go away. The hobbit was no longer much brighter than the dwarves. She would do nothing but sit with her back to the rock-face, eating absently, almost without noticing the steady movement of hand full of food to mouth, and stare away west through the opening, over the cliff, over the wide lands to the black wall of Gorge-wood, and to the distances beyond, in which she sometimes thought she could catch glimpses of the Meaty Mountains small and far. If the dwarves asked her what she was doing she answered:  
     “You said sitting on the doorstep and thinking would be my job, not to mention getting inside, so I am sitting and thinking.” But I am afraid she was not thinking much of the job, but of what lay beyond the blue distance, the quiet Western Land and the Hill and her hobbit-hole under it, well stocked with huge amounts of delicious food of all kinds, and every bite for her to stuff herself. A large gray stone lay in the center of the grass and she stared moodily at it or watched the great snails. They seemed to love the little shut-in bay with its walls of cool rock, and there were many of them of huge size crawling slowly and stickily along its sides.  
     “Tomorrow begins the last week of Autumn,” said More-in one day.  
     “And winter comes after autumn,” said Bigger.  
     “And next year after that,” said D’widen, “and our bellies will grow till the hang down the side of the cliff of the valley before anything happens here. What is our burglar doing for us?  
     “Since she has got a magic ring, and ought to be a specially excellent performer now, I am beginning to think she might go through the Front Gate and spy things out a bit!”  
     Belly-donna heard this-- the dwarves were on the rocks just above the enclosure where she was sitting-- and “Great Gluttony!” she thought, “so that is what they are beginning to think, is it? It is always poor me that has to get them out of their difficulties, at least since the wizard left. Whatever am I going to do? I might have known that something dreadful would happen to me in the end. I don’t think I could bear to see the unhappy valley of Dale again, and as for that steaming gate…!”  
     That night she was very miserable and hardly slept, stuffing her belly all night long, trying to bury her low spirits inside her gigantic stuffed stomach. Next day the dwarves all went wandering off in various directions; some were exercising the ponies down below, some were roving about the mountain-side. All day Belly-donna sat gloomily munching nonstop in the grassy bay gazing at the stone, or out west through the narrow opening, still chomping. She had a queer feeling that she was waiting for something. “Perhaps the wizard will come back today,” she thought.  
     If she lifted her head she could see a glimpse of the distant forest. As the sun turned west there was a gleam of yellow upon its far roof, as if the light caught the last pale leaves. Soon she saw the orange ball of the sun sinking towards the level of her eyes. She went to the opening and there pale and faint was a thin new moon above the rim of the Earth. At that very moment she heard a sharp crack behind her. There on the gray stone in the grass was an enormous thrush, nearly coal black, its pale yellow breast freckled with dark spots. Crack! It had caught a snail and was knocking it on the stone. Crack! Crack! The snail’s shell split asunder and the thrust feasted on the snail. Then it grabbed another, opening it the same way, and ate it also. More snails followed; the thrush gorging itself on the many snails, _gulp gulp gulp_ , and swelling up to nearly a sphere with just wings, feet, and its beak sticking out.  
     Suddenly Belly-donna understood. Forgetting all danger she stood on the ledge and hailed the dwarves, shouting and waving. Those that were nearest came tumbling over the rocks and as fast as they could along the ledge to her, wondering what on earth was the matter; the others shouted to be hauled up the ropes (except Bom-berry, of course; she was too bloated and round to move).  
     Quickly Belly-donna explained. They all fell silent: the hobbit standing by the gray stone, and the dwarves with wobbling bellies watching impatiently. The sun sank lower and lower, and their hopes fell. It sank into a belt of reddened cloud and disappeared. The dwarves groaned, but still Belly-donna stood almost without moving. The little moon was dipping to the horizon. Evening was coming on. Then suddenly when their hope was lowest a red ray of the sun escaped like a finger through a rent in the cloud. A gleam of light came straight through the opening into the bay and fell on the smooth rock-face. The old thrush, who had been watching bloated and fat from a high perch with beady eyes and head cocked to one side, gave a sudden trill. There was a loud crack. A flake of rock split from the wall and fell. A hole appeared suddenly about three feet from the ground. Quickly, trembling lest the chance should fade, the dwarves rushed to the rock and pushed- in vain.  
     “The key! The key!” cried Belly-donna. “Where is More-in?”  
     More-in hurried up.  
     “The key!” shouted Belly-donna. “The key that when with the map! Try it now while there is still time!”  
     Then More-in stepped up and drew the key on its chain from around her pudgy neck. She put it to the hole. It fitted and it turned! Snap! The gleam went out, the sun sank, the moon was gone, and the evening sprang into the sky.  
     Now they all pushed together, and slowly a part of the rock-wall gave way. Long straight cracks appeared and widened. A door five feet high and three broad was out-lined, and slowly without a sound swung inwards. It seemed as if darkness flowed out like a vapor from the hole in the mountain-side, and deep darkness in which nothing could be seen lay before their eyes, a gaping mouth leading in and down.


	12. Extreme Engorgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belly-donna ventures into the dragon's lair and retrieves some treasure for the dwarves. But on her second try, she is seen, taunted, and...used by the dragon.

     For a long time the dwarves stood in the dark before the door and debated, until at last More-in spoke:  
“Now is the time for our esteemed Ms. Big’uns, who has proved herself a good companion on our long road, and a hobbit full of resource and capacity far exceeding her size, and if I may say so possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance-- now is the time for her to perform the service for which she was included in our Company; now its the time for her to earn her Reward.”  
     You are familiar with More-in’s style on important occasions, so I will not give you any more of it, though she went on a good deal longer than this. It certainly was an important occasion, but Belly-donna felt impatient. By now she was quite familiar with More-in too, and she knew what she was driving at.  
     “If you mean you think it is my job to go into the secret passage first, O More-in Gain’s daughter Oakenbowl, may your belly grow ever fatter,” she said crossly, “say so at once and have done! I might refuse. I have got you out of two messes already, which were hardly in the original bargain, so that I am, I think, already owed some reward. But ‘third time pays for all’ as my mother used to say, and somehow I don’t think I shall refuse. Perhaps I have begun to trust my luck more than I used to in the old days” -- she meant last spring before she left her own house, but it seemed centuries ago -- “but anyway I think I will go and have a peep at once and get it over. Now who is coming with me?”  
     She did not expect a chorus of volunteers, so she was not disappointed. Feedee and Foodie looked uncomfortable and stood on one leg, but the others made no pretense of offering-- except old Balloon, the look-out, who was rather fond of the hobbit. She said she would come inside at least and perhaps a bit of the way too, really to call for help if necessary.  
     The most that can be said for the dwarves is this: they intended to pay Belly-donna really handsomely for her services; they had brought her to do a nasty job for them, and they did not mind the poor little lady doing it if she would; but they would all have done their best to get her out of trouble, if she got into it, as they did in the case of the trolls’ stuffing at the beginning of their adventures before they had any particular reasons for being grateful to her. There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of treasure and foodstuffs; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like More-in and Company, if you don’t expect too much.  
     The stars were coming out behind her in a pale sky barred with black when the hobbit crept through the enchanted door and stole into the Mountain. It was far easier going than she expected. This was no goblin entrance, or rough wood-elves’ cave. It was a passage made by dwarves, at the height of their abundance and skill: straight as a ruler, smooth-floored and smooth-sided, going with a gentle never-varying slope direct to some distant end in the blackness below.  
     After a while, Balloon bade Belly-donna “Good luck!” and stopped where she could still see the faint outline of the door, and by a trick of the echoes of the tunnel, hear the rustle of the whispering voices of the others just outside. Then the hobbit, warned by the echoes to take more than hobbit’s care to make no sound, crept noiselessly down, down, down into the dark. She was trembling with fear, ripples running all through her fat body, but her little face was set and grim. Already she was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Big-End long ago. She had not had a pocket-handkerchief for ages. She rubbed her belly, bouncing it in her hands, and went on.  
     “Now you are in for it at last, Belly-donna Big’uns,” she said to herself. “You went and stuck your belly right in it that night of the party, and now you have got to pull it out and pay for the huge stuffings you’ve had! Dear me, what a fool I was and am!” said the least Cookish part of her. “I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded food, and the whole lot could stay here forever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own pantry-hall at home, stuffed to bursting with my own good food for me to grow fat on!”  
     She did not wake up of course, but went still on and on, till all sign of the door behind had faded away. She was altogether alone. Soon she thought it was beginning to feel warm. “Is that a kind of glow I seem to see coming right ahead down there?” she thought. It was. As she went forward it grew and grew, till there was no doubt about it. It was a red light steadily getting redder and redder. Also it was now undoubtedly hot in the tunnel. Wisps of vapor floated up and past her and she began to sweat. A sound, too, began to throb in her ears, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot galloping on the fire, mixed with a rumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring. This grew to the unmistakable gurgling noise of some vast animal snoring in its sleep down there in the red glow in front of her.  
     It was at this point that Belly-donna stopped. Going on from here was the bravest thing she ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterward were as nothing compared to it. She fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before she ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait. At any rate after a short halt, go on she did; and you can picture her coming to the end of the tunnel, an opening of much the same size and shape as the door above. Through it peeps the hobbit’s little head. Before her lies the great bottommost cellar or kitchen-hall of the ancient dwarves right at the Mountain’s root. It is almost dark so that its vastness can only be dimly guessed, but rising from the near side of the rocky floor there is a great glow. The glow of Scarf-down!  
     There she lay, a vast bloated red-golden dragon, fast asleep; thrumming came from her jaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, but her fires were low in slumber. Beneath her, under all her limbs and her huge coiled tail, and about her on all sides stretching away across the unseen floors, lay countless piles of delicious things, delicacies cooked and uncooked, entrees and desserts, and fruits red-stained in the ruddy light.  
     Scarf-down lay, with wings folded like an immeasurable bat, turned partly on one side, so the the hobbit could see her underparts and her fat pale belly crusted with foodstuffs and fragments of food from her long lying on her tasty bed. Behind her where the walls were nearest could dimly be seen cookware, knives and spatulas, pots and pans hanging on racks; and there in rows stood great jars and vessels filled with yet more foodstuffs that could not be guessed. To say that Belly-donna’s breath was taken away is no description at all. There are no words left to express her staggerment, since Men changed the language that they learned of elves in the days when all the world was well-fed. Belly-donna had heard tell and sing of dragon-hoards before, but the splendor, the gluttony, they glory of such food-treasure had never yet come to her. Her heart was stuffed and bloated with enchantment and with the desire of dwarves; and she gazed motionless, almost forgetting the frightful guardian, at the food beyond tally and count.  
     She gazed for what seemed like an age, before drawn almost against her will, she stole from the shadow of the doorway, across the floor to the nearest edge of the mounds of food. Above her the sleeping dragon lay, a dire menace even in her sleep. She grasped a great two-handled dish, as heavy as she could carry, filled to overflowing with a delicious-looking casserole, still preserved all the years presumably by the magic of the dragon, and cast one fearful eye upwards. Scarf-down stirred a wing, opened a claw, the rumble of her snoring changed its note.  
     Then Belly-donna fled. But the dragon did not wake-- not yet but shifted into other dreams of gluttony and devouring, lying there in her stolen hall while the little hobbit toiled back up the long tunnel. Her heart was beating and a more fevered shaking was in her legs than when she was going down, but still she clutched the dish, and her chief thought was: “I’ve done it! This will show them. ‘More like a grocer than a burglar’ indeed! Well, we’ll hear no more of that.”  
     Nor did she. Balloon was overjoyed to see the hobbit again, and as delighted as she was surprised. She picked Belly-donna up and carried her out into the open air (an impressive feat, as fat and heavy as she was). It was midnight and clouds had covered the stars, but Belly-donna lay with her eyes shut, gasping and taking pleasure in the feel of the fresh air again, and hardly noticing the excitement of the dwarves, or how they praised her and patted her on her belly and put themselves and all their families for generations to come at her service.  
     The dwarves were digging spoons into the still edible, and delectable casserole, savoring its exquisite taste, and talking delightedly of the recovery of their food-treasure, when suddenly a vast rumbling woke in the mountain underneath as if it was an old volcano that had made up its mind to start eruptions once again. The door behind them was pulled nearly to, and blocked from closing with a stone, but up the long tunnel came dreadful echoes, from far down in the depths, of a bellowing and a trampling that made the ground beneath them tremble.  
     Then the dwarves forgot their joy and their confident boasts of a moment before and cowered down in fright. Scarf-down was still to be reckoned with. It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near her. Dragons may not have much real use for all their wealth, eating only slowly over many years or even centuries, but they know it to a single serving as a rule, especially after long possession; and Scarf-down was no exception. She had passed from an uneasy dream (in which a person, altogether insignificant in size but provided with a surprising capacity to eat and great appetite, figured most unpleasantly), to a doze, and from a doze to wide waking. There was a breath of strange air in her cave. Could there be a draft from that little hole? She had never felt quite happy about it, though it was so small, and now she glared at it in suspicion and wondered why she had never blocked it up. Of late she had half-fancied she had caught the dim echoes of a knocking sound from far above that came down through it to her lair. She stirred and stretched forth her neck to sniff. Then she missed the casserole!  
     Thieves! Fire! Murder! Such a thing had not happened since she first came to the Mountain! Her rage passes description-- the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more food than they can possibly eat suddenly lose a morsel that they have long had but have never before eaten or wanted. Her fire belched forth, the hall smoked, she shook the mountain-roots. She thrust her head in vain at the little hole, and then coiling her length together, roaring like thunder underground, she sped from her deep lair through its great door, out into the huge passages of the mountain-palace and up towards the Front Gate.  
     To hunt the whole mountain till she had caught the thief and and eaten her in one gulp was her one thought. She issued from the Gate, the waters rose in fierce whistling steam, and up she soared blazing into the air and settled on the mountain-top in a spout of green and scarlet flame. The dwarves heard the awful rumor of her flight, and they crouched against the walls of the grassy terrace cringing under boulders, hoping somehow to escape the frightful eyes of the hunting dragon.  
     There they would have all been eaten, if it had not been for Belly-donna once again. “Quick! Quick!” she gasped. “The door! The tunnel! It’s no good here.”  
     Roused by these words they were just about to creep inside the tunnel when Bigger gave a cry: “My cousins! Bom-berry and Blogger- we have forgotten them, they are down in the valley!”  
     “They will be slain, and all our ponies too, and all our stores lost,” moaned the others. “We can do nothing.”  
     “Nonsense!” Said More-in, recovering her dignity. “We cannot leave them. Get inside Ms. Big’uns and Balloon, and you two Feedee and Foodie- that dragon shan’t have all of us. Now you others, where are the ropes? Be quick!”  
     Those were perhaps the worst moments they had been through yet. The horrible sounds of Scarf-down’s anger were echoing in the stony hollows far above; at any moment she might come blazing down or fly whirling around and find them there, near the perilous cliff’s edge hauling madly on the ropes. Up came Blogger, and still all was safe. Up came Bom-berry, puffing and blowing while the ropes creaked, and still all was safe. Up came some tools and bundles of stores, especially food, and then danger was upon them. A whirring noise was heard. A red light touched the points of standing rocks. The dragon came. They had barely time to fly back to the tunnel, pulling and dragging on their bundles, when Scarf-down came hurtling from the North, licking the mountain-sides with flame, beating her great wings with a noise like a roaring wind. Her hot breath shrivelled the grass before the door, and drove in through the crack they had left and scorched them as they lay hid. Flickering fires leaped up and black rock-shadows danced. Then darkness fell as she passed again.  
     The ponies screamed in terror, burst their ropes and galloped wildly off. The dragon swooped and turned to pursue them, and was gone.  
     “That’ll be the end of our poor beasts!” said More-in. “Nothing can escape Scarf-down once she sees it. Here we are and here we shall have to stay, unless any one fancies tramping the long open miles back to the river with Scarf-down on the watch!”  
     It was not a pleasant thought! They crept further down the tunnel, and there they lay and shivered though it was warm and stuffy, until dawn came pale through the crack of the door. Every now and again through the night they could hear the roar of the flying dragon grow and then pass and fade, as she hunted round and round the mountain-sides.  
     She guessed from the ponies, and from the traces of the camps she had discovered, that men had come up from the river and the lake and had scaled the mountain-side from the valley where the ponies had been standing; but the door withstood her searching eye, and the little high-walled bay had kept out her fiercest flames. Long she had hunted in vain till the dawn chilled her wrath and she went back to her tasty couch to sleep- and to gather new strength.  
     She would not forget or forgive the theft, not if a thousand years turned her to smoldering stone, but she could afford to wait. Slow and silent she crept back to her lair and half closed her eyes.  
     When morning came the terror of the dwarves grew less. They realized that dangers of this kind were inevitable in dealing with such a guardian, and that it was no good giving up their quest yet. Nor could they get away just now, as More-in had pointed out. Their ponies were lost or devoured, and they would have to wait some time before Scarf-down relaxed her watch sufficiently for them to dare the long way on foot. Luckily they had saved enough of their stores to last them still for some time.  
     They ate away their lingering fear and debated long on what was to be done, but they could think of no way of getting rid of Scarf-down-- which had always been a weak point in their plans, as Belly-donna felt inclined to point out. Then as is the nature of folk that are thoroughly perplexed, they began to grumble at the hobbit, blaming her for what had at first so pleased them: for bringing away a casserole and stirring up Scarf-down’s wrath so soon.  
     “What else do you suppose a burglar is to do?” asked Belly-donna angrily. “I was not engaged to kill dragons, that is warrior’s work, but to steal food. I made the best beginning I could. Did you expect me to trot back with the whole hoard of Forker on my back? If there is any grumbling to be done, I think I might have a say. You ought to have brought five hundred burglars not one. I am sure it reflects great credit on your grandmother, but you cannot pretend that you ever made the vast extent of her food-stores clear to me. I should want hundred of years to bring it all up, much less eat any (or all) of it, if I was fifty times as big, and Scarf-down as tame as a rabbit.”  
     After that of course the dwarves begged her pardon.  
     “What then do you propose we should do, Ms. Big’uns?” asked More-in politely.  
     “I have no idea at the moment-- if you mean about removing the foodstuffs. That obviously depends entirely on some new turn of luck and the getting rid of Scarf-down.  
     “Getting rid of dragons is not at all in my line, but I will do my best to think about it. Personally I have no hopes at all, and wish I was safe and stuffed immobile back at home.”  
     “Never mind that for the moment! What are we to do now, today?”  
     “Well, if you really want my advice, I should say we can do nothing but stay where we are. By day we can no doubt creep out safely enough to take the air. Perhaps before long one or two could be chosen to go back to the store by the river and replenish our supplies; we’ll want more food all too soon, much more food. But in the meanwhile everyone ought to be well inside the tunnel by night.  
     “Now I will make you an offer. I have got my ring and will creep down this very noon- then if ever Scarf-down ought to be napping- and see what she is up to. Perhaps something will turn up. ‘Every worm has her weak spot,’ as my mother used to say, though I am sure it was not from personal experience.”  
     Naturally the dwarves accepted the offer eagerly. Already they had come to respect bloated Belly-donna. Now she had become the real leader in their adventure. She had begun to have ideas and plans of her own. When midday came she got ready for another journey down into the Mountain. She did not like it of course, but it was not so bad now she knew, more or less, what was in front of her. Had she known more about dragons and their wily ways, she might have been more frightened and less hopeful of catching this one napping.  
     The sun was shining when she started, but it was as dark as night in the tunnel. The light from the door, almost closed, soon faded as she went down. So silent was her going that smoke on a gentle wind could hardly have surpassed it, and she was inclined to feel a bit proud of herself as she drew near the lower door. There was only the very faintest glow to be seen.  
     “Old Scarf-down is weary and asleep,” she thought. “She won’t see or hear me. Cheer up Belly-donna!” She had forgotten or had never heard about dragons’ sense of smell.  
     It is also an awkward fact that they keep half an eye open watching while they sleep, if they are suspicious. Scarf-down certainly looked fast asleep, almost dead and dark, with scarcely a snore more than a whiff on unseen steam, when Belly-donna peeped once more from the entrance. She was just about to step out on to the floor when she caught a sudden thin and piercing ray of red from under the drooping lid of Scarf-down’s left eye. She was only pretending to sleep! She was watching the tunnel entrance! Hurriedly Belly-donna stepped back. Then Scarf-down spoke.  
     “Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!”  
     But Belly-donna was not quite so unlearned in dragon-lore as all that, and if Scarf-down hoped to get her to come nearer so easily she was disappointed.  
     “No thank you, O Scarf-down the Immense!” she replied. “I did not come for food. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as fat as tales say. I did not believe them.”  
     “Do you now?” said the dragon somewhat flattered, even though she did not believe a word of it.  
     “Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, O Scarf-down the Largest and Greatest Belly,” replied Belly-donna.  
     You have nice manners for a thief and a liar,” said the dragon. “You seem familiar with my name, but I don’t seem to remember smelling you before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?”  
     “You may indeed! I come from under the hill, and under hills and over hills my paths led. And through many kitchens; I am she that eats unbound.”  
     “So I can well believe,” said Scarf-down, “but that is hardly your usual name.”  
     “I am the clue-finder, the fruit-feaster, the eating feeder. I was chosen as the lucky number.”  
     “Lovely titles!” sneered the dragon. “But lucky numbers don’t always come off.”  
     “I am she that stuffs her friends to bursting and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from a big end, and a truly big end have I.”  
     “These don’t sound so creditable,” scoffed Scarf-down.  
     “I am the friend of swine and the guest of feeders. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider,” went on Belly-donna beginning to be pleased with her riddling.  
     “That’s better!” said Scarf-down. “But don’t let your imagination run away with you!”  
     This of course it the way to talk to dragons, if you don’t want to reveal your proper name (which is wise), and don’t want to infuriate them by a flat refusal (which is also wise). No dragon can resist the fascination of riddling talk and of wasting time trying to understand it. There was a lot here which Scarf-down did not understand at all (though I expect you do, since you know all about Belly-donna’s adventures to which she was referring), but she thought she understood enough, and she chuckled in her wicked inside.  
     “I thought so last night,” she smiled to herself. “Lake-men, some nasty scheme of those miserable tub-trading Lake-men, or I’m a lizard. I haven’t been down that way for an age and an age; but I will soon alter that!”  
     “Very well, O Barrel-rider!” she said aloud. “Maybe Barrel was your pony’s name; and maybe not, though it was fat enough. You may eat unbound, but you aren’t too fat for a pony to carry. Let me tell you I ate six ponies last night and I shall catch and eat all the others before long. In return for that excellent meal I will give you one piece of advice for your good: don’t have more to do with dwarves than you can help!”  
     “Dwarves!” said Belly-donna in pretended surprise.  
     “Don’t talk to me!” said Scarf-down. “I know the smell and taste of dwarf- no one better. Don’t tell me that I can eat a dwarf-ridden pony and not know it! You’ll come to a bad end, if you go with such friends, Thief Barrel-rider. I don’t mind if you go back and tell them so from me.”  
     But she did not tell Belly-donna that there was one smell she could not make out at all, hobbit-smell; it was quite outside her experience and puzzled her mightily.  
     “I suppose you got a fair piece of that casserole last night?” she went on. “Come now, did you? Not nearly as much as the rest! Well, that’s just like them. And I suppose they are skulking outside, and your job is to do all the dangerous work and get what you can when I’m not looking for them? And you will get a fair share? Don’t you believe it! If you get off alive, you will be lucky.”  
     Belly-donna was now beginning to feel really uncomfortable. Whenever Scarf-down’s roving eye, seeking for her in the shadows, flashed across her, she trembled, and an unaccountable desire seized hold of her to rush out and reveal herself and tell all the truth to Scarf-down. In fact she was in grievous danger of coming under the dragon-spell. But plucking up courage she spoke again.  
     “You don’t know everything, O Scarf-down the Bloated,” said she. “Not food alone brought us hither.”  
     “Ha! Ha! You admit the ‘us’,” laughed Scarf-down. “Why not say ‘us fourteen’ and be done with it, Ms. Lucky Number? I am pleased to hear that you had other business in these parts besides my foodstuffs. In that case you may, perhaps, not altogether waste your time.  
     “I don’t know if it has occurred to you that, even if you could steal the food bit by bit-- a matter of a hundred years or so-- you could not get it very far or eat enough of it to make it worth your while? It’s all very well to stuff yourself to immensity on the mountain-side, but then what? Bless me! Had you never thought of the catch? A fourteenth share, I suppose, or something like it, those were the terms, eh? But what about delivery? What about cartage? What about carrying your impossibly stuffed belly home?” And Scarf-down laughed aloud. She had a wicked and a wily heart, and she knew her guesses were not far out, though she suspected that the Lake-men were at the back of the plans, and that most of the plunder of food was meant to stop there by the shore that in her young days had been called Esgaroth.  
     You will hardly believe it, but poor Belly-donna was really very taken aback. So far all her thoughts and energies had been concentrated on getting to the Mountain and finding the entrance. She had never bothered to wonder how the food-treasure was to be removed, certainly never how any part of it that might fall to her share as to be brought back all the way to Big-End Under-Hill.  
     Now a nasty suspicion began to grow in her mind-- had the dwarves had forgotten this important point too, or were they laughing in their sleeves at her all the time? That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced. Belly-donna of course ought to have been on her guard; but Scarf-down had rather an overwhelming personality.  
     “I tell you,” she said, in an effort to remain loyal to her friends and to keep her end up, “that food was only an afterthought with us. We came over hill and under hill, by wave and wind, for _Revenge_! Surely, O Scarf-down the greedy and gluttonous, you must realize that your success has made you some bitter enemies?”  
     Then Scarf-down really did laugh-- a devastating sound which shook Belly-donna to the floor, while far up in the tunnel the dwarves huddled together and imagined that the hobbit had come to a sudden and a nasty end.  
     “Revenge!” she snorted, and the light of her eyes lit the hall from floor to ceiling like scarlet lightning. “Revenge! The Queen under the Mountain is dead and where are her kin that dare seek revenge? Girion Lord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his children’s children that dare approach me? I eat whatever I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong. Thief in the Shadows!” she gloated. “My belly is like tenfold caverns, my teeth are forks, my claws knives, the capacity of my stomach a more than a hundred elephants, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!”  
     “I have always understood,” said Belly-donna in a frightened squeak, “that dragons woken from a long slumber were often underfed and skinny.”  
The dragon stopped short in her boasting. “Your information is antiquated,” she snapped. “I am stuffed full and still hungry for more. My belly is packed still and ready to grow and expand even further.”  
     “I might have guessed it,” said Belly-donna. “Truly there can nowhere be found the equal of Lady Scarf-down the Insatiable. How incredible to be so well-stuffed and still so voracious!”  
“Yes, it is rare and wonderful, indeed,” said Scarf-down absurdly pleased. She did not know that the hobbit had already caught a glimpse of her bloated and full stomach on her previous visit, and was itching for a closer view for reasons of her own. The dragon rolled over. “Look!” She said. “What do you say to that?”  
     “Dazzlingly packed! So full and stuffed! Staggeringly bulging!” exclaimed Belly-donna aloud.  
     “You sound envious,” purred Scarf-down. “Do come out and feast with me.”  
     Already nearly under the dragon-spell, and also really envious of her ability to stuff and expand her stomach, Belly-donna froze and said nothing.  
     “Come out from that doorway, little thief. I won’t eat you; you wouldn’t make even a mouthful for me. I just want to feed you, without any pesky dwarves to share.”  
     Now fully enspelled, Belly-donna staggered out towards Scarf-down. “There you are. You’re even more scanty than I expected,” said the dragon with a rumbling chuckle. Now, looking at the hobbit, Scarf-down still had no notion of what sort of person or creature she was. She thought that wouldn’t matter anyway. Scarf-down had done this before; enspelled her prey and had them stuff themselves, eagerly even, until they were helplessly immobile and a large enough mouthful for her. Smiling to herself, Scarf-down said to the hobbit, “a fourteenth share, was that your offer?”  
     Wordlessly, still enraptured by the dragon-spell, Belly-donna just nodded vacantly.  
     Still eyeing the hobbit, Scarf-down flicked her tail and sent a cascade of foodstuffs avalanching towards her prey. “Eat up, little thief. Take your full share, right now.”  
     Belly-donna immediately grabbed a huge double-handful of dwarvish delicacies and, without a thought, crammed the whole thing into her mouth. Chewing mechanically, she reached for another even huger mouthful even as she was just starting to swallow the last. Never stopping, never even slowing, she maintained a steady pace, cramming one dish after another into her mouth whole, chewing and swallowing it all. Tighter and tighter she stomach grew, filling up and then swelling out bigger and bigger as she shoved more and more food down her gullet. An ominous creaking started (familiar, I guess, to you by now), and Scarf-down, really more interested in revenge for theft than feeding, narrowed her eyes, gazing at the still-stuffing hobbit.  
     But, Belly-donna still wore her ring. It flashed with warmth, and the creaking stopped as her belly began to expand again, ever larger and larger.  
     Soon, the seams on her clothing creaked, straining, as her body inflated. Soon after that, they popped, one by one as she outgrew it. Bigger and still bigger her belly swelled, and still she stuffed herself. As her clothes shredded, her body exploded outwards unrestrained now by her clothing, doubling then tripling in girth in seconds. Still more food went down her throat.  
     The hobbit, still deep under the dragon’s spell, kept cramming more and more food down her throat, blowing herself up steadily. She quickly became huge, her belly spreading out to five or six times its previous size, much larger than than her stuffing by the elves, more even than the stuffing of the trolls; indeed, she quickly became larger than both of those sizes together.  
     Minutes became hours, and still she unthinkingly forced more and more inside her still-ballooning belly. She grew immense, her belly now spanning cubic yards. Not only her belly enlarged, but the rest of her body bloated too. Buried though they were by her gargantuan stuffed belly, Ms. Big’uns’s legs had blown up large enough to nearly rival the width of Scarf-down’s toes. Her feet, swallowed up by her burgeoning fat legs, were spherical and had even begun to overwhelm her puffy toes. Even her arms and hands, helped by the ring, so she could keep stuffing, were massive, blown so large that she could hardly bend her arms, and her hands, bloated into balls, were nearly covering her fat fingers. Still, somehow, she managed, at least for a while, to keep her arms and hands going, stuffing, slower now that she was so immensely obese, but still steadily filling her belly, expanding unendingly larger and larger.  
     Finally, in spite of her best efforts, Belly-donna at last grew too fat to keep feeding herself. She wobbled on her belly, rolling round trying to reach even more food to force into her belly. Now and again, her mouth would contact some morsel on the floor as she rolled over it; as soon as anything contacted her mouth, she would suck it in and down to her belly. Scarf-down gazed down at her, surprised. No other had ever managed to eat that much and stay whole. She thought it must be a natural ability of whatever strange kind of folk she was. The dragon decided to see how far it could go, and speared a huge chunk of dwarven food with a claw and shoved it into the hobbit, who happily and eagerly gulped it down. Another huge mouthful, and another, and another, one following the last, stuffed directly by the dragon.  
     Larger and tighter Belly-donna blimped. Seeing the little thing swelling and inflating so far, Scarf-down used her tail to start rubbing her nether regions, getting herself off. As Belly-donna grew more and more, Scarf-down thought of another way; she hadn’t had the chance to do this for many decades, but with this little thing (not so little any more, she thought) getting up to a useful size, she wanted to try it.  
     Scarf-down grabbed hold of the still-stuffing hobbit, surprisingly gently, and put her right at her own gaping pussy. Pushing steadily, she jammed the hobbit inside, with her writhing feet stimulating the dragon’s clit directly, and her growing filling the dragon more every second, growing tighter and fuller as the hobbit swelled. The increasing pressure as the hobbit kept expanding pushed the dragon closer and closer to climax, and she began to spear food with claws from both forefeet, packing the hobbit with one then the other, alternating so that Belly-donna’s mouth was continually filled to overflowing, and her belly blossomed hugely. So fast the dragon’s stuffing went, that the hobbit’s belly stretched taut and tight as it swelled, pushing tighter and tighter against the dragon’s vagina walls, driving her into a huge orgasm.  
     When the dragon’s orgasm hit, she writhed and trembled, but never missed a chance to swell the hobbit even fatter against her pleasure centers. The still-increasing pressure as the hobbit blew up kept the dragon’s orgasms coming, one after the other, not stopping.  
     Finally, many hours of non-stop cumming, the dragon finally felt satisfied, and she squeezed the now-gigantic inflated dildo of the hobbit’s body out of her pussy. After the hours-long continual feeding, Belly-donna’s body was perfectly round, her stomach tight and filled. Four dents marked where her equally bloated limbs had been enveloped by her exploding body. Her head was nearly absorbed into a fifth cavity; only her eyes were (barely) visible above the vast curve of her body. Her tits, bloated and inflated to massive hugeness with fat, just as much as her body, formed two more huge balls of fattened flesh bulging from her spherical ball of a body.  
     Scarf-down, satisfied at her prey’s immobility and not really hungry just yet, amused herself by batting Belly-donna gently with her claws, rolling the hobbit around the vast hall. After a few minutes of this play, the dragon gave her one last push, sending her rolling wildly away, finishing up nearly upside down, still totally helplessly bloated and immobile. Inverted and facing towards the wall, Belly-donna could not see or hear the dragon again for some time.

     Outside, the afternoon was turning into evening, the dwarves were eager for the hobbit’s story, but were too fearful of the dragon to venture down after her. They grew worried and uncomfortable, and they began discussing dragon-slayings historical, dubious, and mythical, and the various sorts of stabs and jabs and undercuts, and the different arts, devices and stratagems by which they were accomplished. The general opinion was that catching a dragon napping was not as easy as it sounded, and the attempt to stick one or prod one asleep was more likely to end in disaster than a bold frontal attack. At last the stars began to peep forth, and they became more and more unhappy and foreboding.  
     At last Balloon interrupted. “Belly-donna talked much with me about the dragon, and I am sure we are very unsafe here,” she said, “I don’t see the point of sitting here. The dragon has withered all the pleasant green, and anyway the night has come and it is cold. But I feel it in my bones that this place will be attacked again. Scarf-down knows now how the hobbit came down to her hall, and you can trust her to guess where the other end of the tunnel is. She will break all this side of the Mountain to bits, if necessary, to stop up our entrance, and if we are smashed with it the better she will like it.”  
     “You are very gloomy, Balloon!” said More-in. “Why has not Scarf-down blocked the lower end, then, if she is so eager to keep us out? She has not, or we should have heard her. And what of the hobbit herself? Where is she, and how do you suppose she is doing down there?”  
     “I don’t know, I don’t know-- maybe because at first she wanted to try to lure us in again, I suppose, and now perhaps because she is waiting till after tonight’s hunt or because she hopes we will venture down to rescue our hobbit-- but I wish you would not argue. Scarf-down will be coming out at any minute now, and our only hope is to get well into the tunnel and shut the door.”  
     She seemed so much in earnest, and had spoken with Belly-donna often, that the others at last did as she said, though they delayed shutting the door- it seemed a desperate plan, for no one knew whether or how they could get it open again from the inside, and the thought of being shut in a place from which the only way out led through the dragon’s lair was not one they liked. Also everything seemed quite quiet, both outside and down the tunnel. So for a longish while they sat inside not far down from the half-open door and went on talking. The talk turned to the great hoard itself and to the things that More-in and Balloon remembered. They wondered if they were still lying there unharmed in the hall below: the cutlery that were made for the kitchens of the great King Bladorthick (long since dead), each had a thrice-forged head and their shafts were inlaid with cunning gold, but they were never delivered or paid for; platters made for chefs long dead; the great golden cup of Forker, two-handed, hammered and carven with birds and flowers whose eyes and petals were of jewels; plates and table-ware gilded and silvered and unbendable, even by the heaviest loads; the necklace of Girion, Lord of Dale, made of five hundred emeralds green as grass, which he gave for the feeding of his eldest daughter with dwarven delicacies the like of which had never been eaten before, for it was huge and succulent beyond the dreams of men. But fairest of all was the great white gem, which had a power the dwarves often to preserve food indefinitely, the Preservator of the Mountain, the Freezingstone of Gain.  
     “The Freezingstone! The Freezingstone!” murmured More-in in the dark, half dreaming with her chin upon her huge tits. “It was like a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon! And it could keep fresh any and all food nearby, even for ever!”  
     But the enchanted desire of the hoard was secondary for Balloon. All through their talk she was only half listening to the rest. She sat nearest to the door with one ear cocked for any beginnings of a sound without, her other was alert for echoes beyond the murmurs of the others, for any whisper of a movement from far below.  
     Darkness grew deeper and she grew ever more uneasy. “Shut the door!” she begged More-in. “I fear that dragon in my marrow. Goodness knows what she may have done with poor Belly-donna. I like this silence far less than the uproar of last night. Shut the door before it is too late!”  
     Something in her voice gave More-in and the others an uncomfortable feeling. Slowly More-in shook off her dreams and getting up she kicked away the stone that wedged the door. Then they thrust upon it, and it closed with a snap and a clang. No trace of a keyhole was there left on the inside. They were shut inside the Mountain!  
     And not a moment too soon. They had hardly gone any distance down the tunnel when a blow smote the side of the Mountain like the crash of battering-rams made of forest-oaks and weighted by huge weight of fat bodies. The rock boomed, the walls cracked and stones fell from the roof on their heads. What would have happened if the door had still been open I don’t like to think. They fled further down the tunnel glad to be still alive, while behind them outside they heard the roar and rumble of Scarf-down’s fury. She was breaking rocks to pieces, smashing walls and cliff with the lashings of her huge tail, till their little lofty camping ground, the scorched grass, the thrush’s stone, the snail-covered walls, the narrow ledge, and all disappeared in a jumble of smithereens, and an avalanche of splintered stones fell over the cliff into the valley below.  
     Scarf-down had left her lair, with Belly-donna stuffed immobile and helpless inside, in silent stealth, quietly soared into the air, and then floated heavy and stuffed in the dark like a monstrous crow, down the wind towards the west of the Mountain, in the hopes of catching unawares something or somebody there, and of spying the outlet to the passage which the thief had used. This was the outburst of her wrath when she could find nobody and see nothing, even where she guessed the outlet must actually be.  
     After she had let off her rage in this way she felt better and she thought in her heart that she would not be troubled again from that direction. In the meanwhile she had further vengeance to take. “Barrel-rider!” she snorted. “Your fee came from the waterside and up the water you came without a doubt. I don’t know your race, but if you are not one of those men of the Lake, you had their help. They shall see me and remember who is the real Queen under the Mountain!”  
     She rose in fire and went away south towards the Running River.


	13. Eat at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves finally explore the dragon's lair, and escape the mountain. (The sex part is mostly at the end, if that's what you're looking for. The feeding is a bit after the middle, and more at the end.)

     In the meanwhile, the dwarves sat in darkness, and utter silence fell about them. Little they spoke, but much they ate, if quietly. They could not count the passing of time, only the end of a meal and the beginning of the next; and they scarcely dared move, for the whisper of their voices echoed and rustled in the tunnel. If they dozed, they woke still to darkness and to silence going on unbroken. At last after days and days of waiting, as it seemed from their many many feedings, when they were becoming choked and dazed for want of air, they could bear it no longer. They would almost have welcomed sounds from below of the dragon’s return. In the silence they feared some cunning devilry of hers, but they could not sit there for ever.  
     More-in spoke: “Let us try the door!” she said. “I must feel the wind on my naked tits and belly soon or die. I think I would rather be eaten up by Scarf-down in the open than suffocate in here!”  
     So several of the dwarves got up and groped back to where the door had been. But they found that the upper end of the tunnel had been shattered and blocked with broken rock. Neither key nor the magic it had once obeyed would ever open that door again.  
     “We are trapped!” they groaned. “This is the end. We shall die here.”  
     But More-in felt a strange lightening of the heart, as if a heavy weight had been stuffed inside her belly. “Come, Come!” she said. “ ‘While there’s life there’s hope!’ as my mother used to say. I am going down the tunnel. The hobbit has been that way twice, when we knew there was a dragon at the other end; I will risk a trip when I am no longer sure. Anyway, the only way out is down, and we have to see if our worthy Ms. Big’uns is in a state to need rescuing. I think this time we had better all go together.”  
     In desperation, the obeyed, and More-in led them down.  
     “Now do be careful!” whispered Balloon, “and quiet as we can be! There may be no Scarf-down at the bottom but then again she may be. Don’t let us take any unnecessary risks!”  
Down, down they went. The dwarves could not, of course, compare with the hobbit in real stealth, and they made a great deal of puffing and shuffling which echoed magnified alarmingly; but though every now and again they stopped in fear and listened, not a sound stirred below. Near the bottom, as well as they could judge, More-in halted the rest and went ahead. But it was no good; the darkness was complete. In fact so black it was that the dwarf came to the opening unexpectedly, put her hand on air, stumbled forward, and rolled headlong into the hall!  
There she lay face downwards on the floor and did not dare to get up, or hardly even to breathe. But nothing moved. There was not a gleam of light. Certainly no spark of dragon-fire, though the wormstench was heavy in the place, and the taste of vapor was on her tongue.  
     At length More-in could bear it no longer. “Confound you, Scarf-down you worm!” she yelled aloud. “Stop playing hide-and-seek! Give me a light, and then eat me if you dare!”  
Faint echoes ran round the unseen hall, but there was no answer. Belly-donna stirred, hearing More-in’s voice. She writhed inside her round-ball body, still slimed with Scarf-down’s pussy juices, trying to roll towards the sound.  
     Meanwhile, More-in said, “now I wonder what on earth Scarf-down is playing at.” She is not at home today (or tonight, or whatever it is), I do believe. If Gut and Glut have not lost their tinder-boxes, perhaps we can make a little light and have a look round before the luck turns.”  
     “Light!” she cried. “Gut, Glut! Make a light!”  
     “Sh! Sh!” the others hissed, when they heard her voice: and though that helped the hobbit hear where they were, it was some time before she could roll her body to get her feet on the ground. In the meantime, Gut and Glut were sent back to their bundles at the top of the tunnel. After a while a twinkling gleam showed them returning, Gut with a small pine-torch alight in her hand, and Glut with a bundle of others under her arm.  
     Eventually, Belly-donna (both from her efforts, and the enhanced digestion of her ring) was able to waddle her way towards the dwarves. On the way across the hall from where Scarf-down had rolled her massively stuffed body to the door where the dwarves huddled, Belly-donna’s foot slipped and she fell forwards; her still-round body started rolling, and she only stopped when she hit an upward slope of food. Right in front of her face when she stopped, she caught a pale white gleam partially buried in the food under her. Still under the fading dragon-spell, Belly-donna grabbed and ate several huge mouthfuls, uncovering a little globe of pallid light. Now as it came clear, it was tinged with a flickering sparkle of many colors at the surface, reflected and splintered from the wavering light of the distant torches. At last she looked down upon it and she caught her breath. The great jewel shone before her feet of its own inner light, and yet, cut and fashioned by the dwarves, who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago, it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow.  
     Suddenly Belly-donna’s arm, barely mobile, went towards it drawn by its enchantment. Her bloated hand and fingers would not close about it for they were still too fattened to curl; but she lifted it, shut her eyes, and put it in her deepest pocket.  
     “Now I am a burglar indeed!” thought she. “But I suppose I must tell the dwarves about it-- some time. They did say I could pick and choose my own share; and I think I might choose this, if they took every scrap of food!” All the same she had an uncomfortable feeling that the picking and choosing had not really been meant to include this marvellous gem, and that trouble would yet come of it. New she struggled to right herself, and still shrinking back to full mobility under the help of her ring, she went on again. Down the other side of the great mound she wobbled.  
She went on, until she reached the door and the dwarves. They were pleased and relieved to see her, even in her nearly immobile state. They were eager for her story, especially wanting to know why the dragon had just stuffed her and left her, rather than eating her whole.  
     So Belly-donna told them all she could remember, and she confessed that she had a nasty feeling that the dragon guessed too much from her riddles added to the camps and the ponies. “I am sure she knows we came from Lake-town and had help from there; and I have a horrible feeling that her next move may be in that direction. I wish to goodness I had never said that about Barrel-rider; it would make even a blind rabbit in these parts think of the Lake-men.”  
     “Well, well! It cannot be helped, and it is difficult not to slip in talking to a dragon, or so I have always heard,” said Balloon anxious to comfort her. “I think you did very well, if you ask me, and you got out alive. How ever did you manage that, by the way?”  
     “I’m sure I don’t know,” said she. “I think that she was trying to make me feed myself till I burst, or at least till I was a big enough morsel for her worth, but then she seemed surprised that I could blow up so big. She kept stuffing me herself, faster and faster, until I was a round ball; not even my arms and legs, or even my whole head still outside my bloated ball body. Then she played with me a while, rolling me around. She left, I expect to hunt for you and then return and eat my fat body up, but when she couldn’t find you at all, I have no idea what she will do now.”  
     Having reunited with the dwarves, Belly-donna, mobile again, if hugely fattened now and barely able to get her legs past each other to waddle around, went back to the door and took the torch; but she could not persuade the dwarves to light the others or come out and join her yet. As More-in carefully explained, Ms. Big’uns was still officially their expert burglar and investigator. If she liked to risk a light, that was her affair. They would wait in the tunnel for her report. So they sat near the door and watched.  
     They saw the expanded dark shape of the hobbit start across the floor holding her tiny light aloft. Every now and again, while she was still near enough, they caught a glint and a squelch as she stumbled on some metal dish, filled with edible delicacies. The light grew smaller as she wandered away into the vast hall; then it began to rise dancing into the air. Belly-donna was climbing back up the great mound of food. Soon she stood upon the top, and still went on, until she came to the great doors at the further side, and there was a draft of air refreshed her, but it almost puffed out her light. She peeped timidly through and caught a glimpse of great passages and of the dim beginnings of wide stairs going up into the gloom. And still there was no sight nor sound of Scarf-down. She was just going to turn and go back, when a black shape swooped at her and brushed her face. She squeaked and started, rolling backward onto her huge rear. She rolled over onto her immense belly. Her torch dropped head downwards and went out!  
     “Only a bat, I suppose and hope!” she said miserably . “But now what am I to do? Which is East, South, North, West?  
     “More-in! Balloon! Gut! Glut! Feedee! Foodie!” she cried as loud as she could-- it seemed a muted noise in the wide blackness, muffled by the size of her bloated throat and face. “The light’s gone out! Someone come and find me and help me!” For the moment, she was immobile again, stuck rolling around on her bloated stomach, unable to get up to her feet.  
     Faintly the dwarves heard her small cried, though the only word they could catch was ‘help!’  
     “Now what on earth or under it has happened?” said More-in. “Certainly not the dragon, or she would not go on squeaking.”  
     They waited a moment or two, and still there were no dragon-noises, no sound at all in fact but Belly-donna’s distant voice. “Come, one of you, get another light or two!” More-in ordered. “It seems we have got to go and help our burglar.”  
     “It is about our turn to help,” said Balloon, “and I am quite willing to go. Anyway I expect it is safe for the moment.”  
     Glut lit several more torches, and then they all crept out, one by one, and went along the wall as hurriedly as they could. It was not long before they met Belly-donna herself, rolling back towards them, still unable to get to her feet past her massive round belly. Her wits had quickly returned soon as she saw the twinkle of their lights.  
     “Only a bat and a dropped torch, and my fat belly keeping me off my feet, nothing worse!” she said in answer to their questions. Though they were much relieved, they were inclined to be grumpy at being frightened for nothing; but what they would have said, if she had told them at that moment about the Freezing-stone, I don’t know. The mere fleeting glimpses of food which they had caught as they went along had rekindled all the gluttony of their dwarvish bellies; and when the stomach of a dwarf, even the most respectable, is wakened by food and feasting, she grows suddenly bold, and she may become fierce.  
     The dwarves indeed no longer needed any urging. All were now eager to explore the hall while they had the chance, and willing to believe that, for the present, Scarf-down was away from home. Each now gripped a lighted torch; and as they gazed, first on one side then on another, they forgot fear and even caution. They spoke aloud, and cried out to one another, as they lifted old, still-preserved morsels from the mound or from the wall and held them in the light, munching them and rubbing their bellies, even fingering themselves in pleasure at their stuffing. Feedee and Foodie were almost in merry mood, and finding still hanging there many golden harps strung with silver they took them and struck them; and being magical (and also untouched by the dragon, who had small interest in music, or anything excepting food and eating) they were still in tune. The dark hall was filled with a melody that had long been silent. But most of the dwarves were more practical; they gathered dishes and stuffed themselves, and let what they could not fit in their packed mouths fall back through their fingers with a sigh. More-in was not least among these; but always she searched from side to side for something which she could not find. It was the Freezing-stone but she spoke of it yet to no one.  
     Now the dwarves took down plates and cutlery from the walls, and sat in good order, feeding as at a royal feast. Royal indeed did More-in look, at the head of the assemblage, serving with gold-plated utensils, with silver plates filled with massive food.  
     “Ms. Big’uns!” she cried. “Here is the first payment of your reward! Your belly will cast off your old coat surely, when it’s stuffed with this!”  
     With that, she stuffed Belly-donna with a huge delicacy of dwarvish cooking, indeed bloating her belly out wide and wider as she crammed more and more past the hobbit’s eager lips.  
     “I feel magnificent,” she thought, still chewing desperately as More-in kept forcing more and more food inside her; “and I expect I look more magnificently stuffed still. How they would laugh on the Hill at home. Still I wish there was a looking-glass handy, to see for myself how immensely fat I really am!”  
     All the same, Ms. Big’uns kept her head more clear of the bewitchment of the hoard of food than the dwarves did. Long before the dwarves were tired of stuffing themselves as much as they possibly could, even stuffing each other nearly to their own immobility, she became wary of it and sat down on the floor; and she began to wonder nervously what the end of it all would be.  
     “I would give a good many of these goblets full of wine,” she thought, “for a huge drink of something cheering out of one of Big-one’s wooden bowls!”  
     “More-in!” she cried aloud. “What next? We are well-fed and truly stuffed, but what good will that do against Scarf-down the Ravenous? This food is not yet won back. We are not looking for stuffing to capacity yet, but for a way of escape; and we have tempted luck too long!”  
     “You speak the truth!” answered More-in, recovering her wits. “Let us go! I will guide you. Not in a thousand years should I forget the ways of this place.” Then she hailed the others, and they gathered together, still chewing their last huge mouthfuls, and holding their torches above their heads, they passed through the gaping doors, not without many a backward glance of longing and a licking of lips.  
     Their newly distended bellies they had covered again with their old cloaks, and one by one they walked behind More-in, a line of little lights and bloated dwarves in the darkness that halted often, listening in fear once more for any rumor of the dragon’s coming. Though all the old adornments were long moldered or destroyed, and though all was befouled and blasted with the comings and goings of the monstrously-fat dragon, More-in knew every passage and every turn. They climbed long stairs, very wide for the passage of massively-bloated dwarves in huge crowds, and turned and went down wide echoing ways, and turned again and climbed yet more stairs, and yet more stairs again.  
     These were smooth, cut out of the living rock broad and fair; and up, up the dwarves went, and they met no sign of any living thing, only furtive shadows that fled from the approach of their torches fluttering in the drafts. The steps were not made, all the same, for hobbit-legs (nor hobbit-bellies), and Belly-donna was just feeling that she could go on no longer, when suddenly the roof sprang high and far beyond the reach of their torch-light. A white glimmer could be seen coming through some opening far above, and the air smelt much sweeter. Before them light came dimly through great doors, that hung twisted on their hinges and half burnt.  
     “This is the great chamber of Forker,” said More-in; “the hall of feasting and of force-feeding. Not far off now is the Front Gate.”  
     They passed through the ruined chamber. Tables were rotting there; chairs and benches were lying there overturned, charred and decaying. Skulls and bones were upon the floor among flagons and bowls and broken drinking-horns and dust. As they came through yet more doors at the further end, a sound of water fell upon their ears, and the gray light grew suddenly more full.  
     “There is the birth of the Running River,” said More-in. “From here it hastens to the Gate. Let us follow it!”  
     Out of a dark opening in a wall of rock there issued a boiling water, and it flowed swirling in a narrow channel, carved and made straight and deep by the cunning of ancient hands. Beside it ran a stone-paved road, wide enough for many fat dwarves abreast. Swiftly along this they waddled, and round a wide-sweeping turn-- and behold! before them stood the broad light of day. In front there rose a tall arch, still showing the fragments of old carven work within, worn and splintered and blackened though it was. A misty sun sent its pale light between the arms of the Mountain, and beams of gold fell on the pavement at the threshold.  
     “Half a moment!” cried Ms. Big’uns. “I have to wash this dragon-cum off of me before I go a single step more!” And she immediately jumped in the icy cold stream, scrubbing herself clean, and dipping her hand inside her own slit, moaning and fingering herself ashamedly remembering the pleasures of stuffing and sex she shared (if not entirely willingly) with the dragon.  
A whirl of bats frightened from slumber by their smoking torches flurried over them; as they sprang forward their feet slithered on stones rubbed smooth and slimed by the passing of the dragon. Now before them the water fell noisily outward and foamed down towards the valley. They flung their pale torches to the ground, and stood gazing out with dazzled eyes. They were come to the Front Gate, and were looking out upon Dale.  
     “Well!” said Belly-donna, “ I never expected to be looking out of this door. And I never expected to be so pleased to see the sun again, and to feel the wind on my face. But, ow! this wind is cold!”  
     It was. A bitter easterly breeze blew with a threat of oncoming winter. It swirled over and round the arms of the Mountain into the valley, and sighed among the rocks. After their long time in the stewing depths of the dragon-haunted caverns, they shivered in the sun. Suddenly Belly-donna realized that she was not only tired by also hungry again indeed. “It seems to be alter morning,” she said, “and so I suppose it is more or less breakfast-time-- but I don’t feel that Scarf-down’s front doorstep is the safest place for a meal, especially as large a one as I feel the wanting for. Do let’s go somewhere where we can sit quiet and stuff ourselves for a bit!”  
     “Quite right!” said Balloon. “And I think I know which way we should go: we ought to make for the old look-out post at the Southwest corner of the Mountain.”  
     “How far is that?” asked the hobbit.  
     “Five hours march, I should think. It will be rough going. The road from the Gate along the left edge of the stream seems all broken up. But look down there! The river loops suddenly east across Dale in front of the ruined town. At that point there was once a bridge, leading to steep stairs that climbed up the right bank, and so to a road running towards Ravenhill. There is (or was) a path that left the road and climbed up to the post. A hard climb, even if the old steps are still there.”  
     “Dear me!” grumbled the hobbit. “More walking and more climbing without breakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts, and other meals, Scarf-down stuffed into me all at once inside that nasty clockless, timeless hole?”  
     “Come, come!” said More-in laughing-- her spirits had begun to rise again, and she jiggled her massive stuffed belly and bulging tits. “Don’t call my place a nasty hole! You wait till it has been cleaned and restocked with food and ingredients!”  
     “That won’t be till Scarf-down is dead,” said Belly-donna glumly. “In the meanwhile where is she? I would give a good breakfast to know. I hope she is not up on the Mountain looking down at us!”  
     That idea disturbed the dwarves mightily, and they quickly decided that Belly-donna and Balloon were right.  
     “We must move away from here,” said Feeder. “I feel as if her eyes were on my belly.”  
     “It’s a cold lonesome place,” said Bom-berry. “There may be drink, but I myself would want food enough for us all, just for me; and some of my berries.”  
     “Come on! Come on!” cried the others. “Let us follow Balloon’s path!”  
     Under the rocky wall to the right there was no path, so on they trudged among the stones on the left side of the river, and the emptiness and desolation soon sobered even More-in again. The bridge that Balloon had spoken of they found long fallen, and most of its stones were now only boulders in the shallow noisy stream; but they forded the water without much difficulty, and found the ancient steps, and climbed the high bank. After going a short way they struck the old road, and before long came to a deep dell sheltered among the rocks; there they rested for a while and had as massive a breakfast as they could.  
     They spread their supplies out, easy to hand. Almost as one, the dwarves (and the hobbit) all grabbed huge handfuls of food and crammed them immediately down their own throats. In the joy of stuffing themselves in something resembling ease, the dwarves quickly began to race; speeding up, jamming larger and larger masses in, faster and faster, trying to stuff more in than the others. As in the dragon’s lair, Belly-donna kept her head, and only stuffed herself to her own satisfaction, not trying to out-do the dwarves (besides, she already knew by now that she could, and quite easily); but the dwarves were lost in their competition, reaching out with both hands, alternating stuffing food in, so that their mouths were not only never empty, but were packed with more and more, puffing out their cheeks. More and more they stuffed in; now, their bellies too were expanding as they stopped even chewing, just letting the handfuls they jammed inside force the mouthfuls down into their stomachs. Rounder and huger they swelled, thrusting the unending stream of food down.  
     One by one, the dwarves tired, or finally reached their limits. All but two; Balloon and More-in kept eyeing each other and forcing more into their already enormous, tight bellies. The other dwarves, immobile as they digested their own belly-loads, watched avidly as the two kept going, impossibly cramming more and yet more down. Feeder, her preference being not to stuff herself, was not held down by her gigantic belly, and moved to help More-in stuff herself faster.  
     Belly-donna, satisfied (for the moment) with her own stuffing long before the dwarves’ limits, went to Balloon to help her keep up with More-in and Feeder.  
     The two dwarves just lay down, opening their mouths wide, as Feeder and Belly-donna took over their consumption. Intent on their tasks, they ignored each other, focussing on their target. Balloon and More-in truly lived up to their names as Belly-donna and Feeder kept up the incredible immense stuffing.  
     Finally, after several hours, More-in and Balloon, both quite immobile with their bellies bloating out over their prone bodies, lay exhausted, panting shallowly. Those amazing, nearly unbelievable bellies covered their limbs completely, even pushing their newly-enlarged tits up to cover their faces, making them seem only gigantic bellies and tits, with the rest of them only mere afterthoughts. Belly-donna and Feeder, exhausted themselves after their marathon feeding, wilted onto the massive soft bellies of their charges, resting on them as on huge comfortable beds.  
     After that they went on again, all of them rather much fattened and waddling with more effort than ever, carrying the immobile, stuffed forms of More-in and Balloon; and now the road struck westwards and left the river, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer. At length they reached the hill path. It scrambled steeply up, and they plodded slowly one behind the other, puffing with the effort of pulling their massive weights up the steep hill, till at long last in the late afternoon they came to the top of the ridge and saw the wintry sun going downwards to the West.  
     Here they found a flat place without a wall on three sides, but backed to the North by a rocky face in which there was an opening like a door. From that door there was a wide view East and South and West.  
     “Here,” said Balloon, now a bit recovered from her marathon feeding, “in the old days we used always to keep watchmen, and that door behind leads into a rock-hewn chamber that was made here as a guardroom. There were several places like it round the Mountain. But there seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were given to cram themselves senseless with food-- otherwise we might have had longer warnings of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different. Still, here we can now lie hid and sheltered for a while, and can see much without being seen.”  
     “Not much use, if we have been seen coming here,” said Treater, who was always looking up towards the Mountain’s peak, as if she expected to see Scarf-down perched there like a bird on a steeple.  
     “We must take our chance of that,” said More-in, returned also to more normal mobility. “We can go no further today.”  
     “Hear, hear!” cried Belly-donna, and flung herself on the ground.  
     In the rock-chamber there would have been room for a hundred, and there was a small chamber further in, more removed from the cold outside. There they lay their burdens; and some threw themselves down at once and slept, but the others sat near the outer door and stuffed themselves and each other to massive bloated size.  
     As they stuffed, they discussed their plans. In all their talk they came perpetually back to one thing: where was Scarf-down? They looked West and there was nothing, and East there was nothing, and in the South there was no sign of the dragon, but there was a gathering of very many birds. At that they gazed and wondered; but they were no nearer understanding it, when the first cold stars came out. They returned to their mutual feedings, growing larger and larger, and began to feel amorous, too, all through the long night.  
     As so often before, they fed and expanded until their clothes were painfully tight, stretched to the limit containing their new bulging bodies. One by one, several dwarves stripped down, revealing their new massive tits, asses, and bellies for the ogling of the others. A few (Feedee and Balloon to name two) kept their clothes on, pulling them tighter and tighter until they finally grew so fat that they popped all the seams on their new clothes, shredding the cloth right off their immense and still-swelling bodies.  
     Now totally nude, the dwarves split off into smaller groups, most with one dwarf overstuffing another, while more sucked on the fed one’s tits, or ate her pussy, or used her fingers (and even toes) to get themselves off.  
     Feedee was stuffed by Feeder, using both her hands, alternating and keeping Feedee’s mouth full to overflowing with huge mouthfuls of food. As she chewed and swallowed desperately, trying to keep up with Feeder, Treater and Eater were rubbing her bloated tits and sucking hard on her hipples, while Glut was under her belly, between her legs, digging deep with her tongue on Feedee’s clit. Now and again, a scrap of food would slip away from Feeder, moaning at both her stuffing and the suckling of the two at her tits, and Glut in her pussy, and would fall onto her tits to be licked up by those two, or slide all the way to Glut, who would push it inside Feedee’s pussy, just by the force of her licking. Immediately, Glut sucked it back out, drenched in Feedee’s juices, and ate it down, relishing the mixed taste of food and sex.  
     While these four were servicing Feedee, Gut and Bigger dropped heavily onto her hands, driving them deep inside their own pussies, bouncing on them to get themselves off over and over.  
     All the night through, the dwarves traded spots, sometimes feeding, sometimes being stuffed, sometimes eating out pussies or sucking on tits, sometimes using others’ hands. Each dwarf had a turn at each position, and by the next dawn, they were all stuffed to their limits and exhausted by the nonstop night of sex.


	14. Feeding and Rupture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Scarf-down the dragon, and how the dragon-slayer was repaid.

     Now if you wish, like the dwarves, to hear news of Scarf-down, you must go back again to the evening when she smashed the door and flew off in rage, two days before.  
     The folk of the lake-town Esgaroth were mostly indoors, for the breeze was from the black East and chill, but a few were walking on the quays, and watching, as they were fond of doing, the stars shine out from the smooth patches of the lake as they opened in the sky. From their town the Lonely Mountain was mostly screened by the low hills at the far end of the lake, through a gap in which the Running River came down from the North. Only its high peak could they see in clear weather, and they looked seldom at it, for it was ominous and dreary even in the light of morning. Now it was lost and gone, blotted in the dark.  
     Suddenly it flickered back to view; a brief glow touched it and faded.  
     “Look!” said one. “The lights again! Last night the watchmen saw them start and fade from midnight until dawn. Something is happening up there.”  
     “Perhaps the Queen under the Mountain is baking and cooking,” said another. “It is long since she went north. It is time the songs began to prove themselves again.”  
     “Which queen?” said another with a grim voice. “As like as not it is the marauding fire of the Dragon, the only queen under the mountain we have ever known.”  
     “You are always foreboding gloomy things!” said the others. “Anything from floods to food shortages. Think of something cheerful!”  
     Then suddenly a great light appeared in the low place in the hills and the northern end of the lake turned golden.  
     “The Queen under the Mountain!” they shouted. “Her wealth is like the Sun, her silverware like a fountain, her rivers gold as butter run! The river is running gold from the Mountain!” they cried, and everywhere windows were opening and feet were hurrying.  
     There was once more a tremendous excitement and enthusiasm. But the grim-voiced woman ran, her belly jiggling and flopping with each step, to the Mistress. “The dragon is coming or I am a fool!” she cried. “Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!”  
     Then warning trumpets were suddenly sounded, and echoed along the rocky shores. The cheering stopped and the joy was turned to dread. So it was that the dragon did not find them quite unprepared. Before long, so great was her speed, they could see her as a spark of fire rushing towards them and growing ever huger and more bright, and not the most foolish doubted that the prophecies had gone rather wrong. Still they had a little time. Every vessel in the town was filled with water, every warrior was armed, every arrow and dart was ready, and the bridge to the land was thrown down and destroyed, before the roar of Scarf-down’s terrible approach grew loud, and the lake rippled red as fire beneath the awful beating of her wings.  
     Amid shrieks and wailing and the shouts of men she came over them, swept towards the bridges and was foiled! The bridge was gone, and her enemies were on an island in deep water-- too deep and dark and cool for her liking. If she plunged into it, a vapor and a steam would arise enough to cover all the land with a mist for days; but the lake was mightier than she, it would quench her before she could pass through.  
     Roaring she swept back over the town. A hail of dark arrows leaped up and snapped and rattled on her scales, and their shafts fell back rekindled by her breath burning and hissing into the lake. No fireworks you ever imagined equalled the sights that night. At the twanging of the bows and the shrilling of the trumpet the dragon’s hunger blazed to its height, till she was blind and mad with it. No one had dared to give battle to her for many an age; nor would they have dared now, if it had not been for the grim-voiced woman (Lard was her name), who waddled to and fro cheering on the archers and urging the Mistress to order them to fight to the last arrow.  
     Fire leaped from the dragon’s jaws. She circled for a while high in the air above them lighting all the lake; the trees by the shores shone like copper and like blood with leaping shadows of dense black at their feet. Then down she swooped straight through the arrow-storm, reckless in her hunger, taking no heed to turn her scaly sides towards her foes, seeking only to eat all their town up to the last woman.  
     Fire leaped from thatched roofs and wooden beam-ends as she hurtled down and past and round again, though all had been drenched with water before she came. Once more water was flung by a hundred hands wherever a spark appeared. Back swirled the dragon. A sweep of her tail and the roof of the Great House crumbled and smashed down; all the people within, thus revealed, were devoured in a snap, filling the dragon’s belly. Flames unquenchable sprang high into the night. Another swoop and another, and another household and then another were gobbled up and swallowed, filling and now expanding the belly of the dragon; and yet more and more people she stuffed her belly with, blowing up huger and huger. And still no arrow hindered Scarf-down or hurt her more than a fly from the marshes. Already men were jumping into the water on every side. Women and children were being huddled into laden boats in the market-pool. Weapons were flung down. There was mourning and weeping, where but a little time ago the old songs of mirth to come had been sung about the dwarves. Now men cursed their names. The Mistress herself was turning to her great gilded boat, hoping to row away in the confusion and save herself. Soon all the town would be deserted and burned down to the surface of the lake. That was the dragon’s hope. They could all get into boats for all she cared. There she could have fine sport hunting them, and eating up the whole town. Let them try to get to land and she would be ready. Soon she would set all the shoreland woods ablaze and wither every field and pasture. Just now she was enjoying the sport of town-baiting more than she had enjoyed anything for years, and any unlucky townsfolk that she caught were quickly devoured, further filling and expanding her belly as she swallowed them all down, along with any foodstuffs she could find. But there was still a company of archers that held their ground among the burning houses. Their captain was Lard, grim-voiced, grim-faced, and huge-bodies, whose friends had accused her of prophesying floods and food shortages, though they knew her worth and courage. She was a descendant in long line form Girion, Lord of Dale, whose wife and child had escaped down the Running River from the ruin long ago. Now she shot with a great yew bow, till all her arrows but one were spent. The flames were near her. Her companions were leaving her. She bent her bow for the last time. Suddenly out of the dark something fluttered to her shoulder. She started-- but it was only an old thrust. Unafraid it perched by her ear and it brought her news. Marvelling she found she could understand its tongue, for she was of the race of Dale.  
     “Wait! Wait!” it said to her. “The dragon has been feasting, and her belly is already swollen huge. Just the right shot with the right poison may swell her further, even to bursting.”  
“Arrow!” said the archer. “Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and I have always recovered you. You are coated with potions from of old. If ever you came from the forges and kitchens of the true Queen under the Mountain, go now and speed well!”  
     The dragon swooped once more lower than ever, and as she turned and dived down her mouth gaped wide, to devour any and all she could get into her maw. The great bow twanged. The black arrow sped straight from the string, straight into the dragon’s open mouth, straight down her throat. With a gurgle and a hacking wheeze, the dragon pulled up short. She snapped her head backwards and forwards, trying to dislodge the tiny barb which had already sped down into her belly, stuffed with so many townsfolk.  
     Soon, her belly could be seen to swell. The philter coating the arrow’s black head, mixing with the contents of Scarf-down’s belly, began inflating her middle. Slowly at first, then faster and faster she blew up, becoming a round balloon. Her rapidly expanding belly began to engulf her limbs, even her wings and grew up her neck, rushing for her head. The sense of expansion and fullness began to arouse the dragon's lust, and she forgot her attacks on Lake-town. In moments, she was lost in an orgasm that only grew stronger as she swelled. Helplessly lost in expansion and pleasure, she swelled and her climax continued, juice flowing from her pussy and flooding the town. In bare minutes, the dragon was only a huge round ball in the sky above Lake-town, still cumming and drenching the town, tight skin thrumming and vibrating as it tried to expand further. Even her head was now enveloped by her gigantically bloated body. Huger she swelled, growing beyond all imagination of swollen bellies, and still huger yet, before her scaly skin reached its absolute limit.  
     Her body paused a moment, quivering as it tried to bloat still wider. The dragon screamed aloud as the steady pressure sent the dragon into a more massive orgasm than ever, then she burst asunder with a deafening explosion. For minutes afterward, dragon-flesh rained down on the town. The force of the explosion threw the pieces of meat down and splintered the town to sparks and gledes. The lake roared in. A vast steam leaped up, white in the sudden dark under the moon. There was a hiss, a gushing whirl, and then silence. And that was the end of Scarf-down and Esgaroth, but not of Lard. The waxing moon rose higher and higher and the wind grew loud and cold. It twisted the white fog into bending pillars and hurrying clouds and drove it off to the West to scatter in tattered shreds over the marshes before Gorge-wood. Then the many boats could be seen dotted dark on the surface of the lake, and down the wind came voices of the people of Esgaroth lamenting their lost town and goods and ruined houses. But they had really much to be thankful for, had they thought of it, though it could hardly be expected that they should just then: three quarters of the people of the town had at least escaped alive; their woods and fields and pastures and cattle and most of their boats remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead. What that meant they had not yet realized.  
     They gathered in mournful crowds upon the western shores, shivering in the cold wind, and their first complaints and anger were against the Mistress, who had left the town so soon, while some were still willing to defend it.  
     “She may have a good head for business-- especially her own business,” some murmured, “but she is no good when anything serious happens!” and they praised the courage of Lard and her last mighty shot. “If only she had not been killed,” they all said, “we would make her a queen. Lard the Dragon-burster of the line of Girion! Alas that she is lost!”  
     And in the very midst of their talk, a fat figure stepped from the shadows. She was drenched with water, her black hair hung wet over her face and shoulders, and a hungry light was in her eyes.  
     “Lard is not lost!” she cried. “She dived from Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain. I am Lard, of the line of Girion; I am the slayer of the dragon!”  
     “Queen Lard! Queen Lard!” they shouted; but Mistress ground her chattering teeth.  
     “Girion was lord of Dale, not king of Esgaroth,” she said. “In the Lake-town we have always elected masters from among the old and wise, and have not endured the rule of mere fighting men and women. Let ‘Queen Lard’ go back to her own kingdom-- Dale is now freed by her valor, and nothing hinders her return. And any that wish can go with her, if they prefer the cold shores under the shadow of the Mountain to the green shores of the lake. The wise will stay here and hope to rebuild our town, and enjoy again in time its peace and riches.”  
     “We will have Queen Lard!” the people near at hand shouted in reply. “We have had enough of the old women and the money-counters!” And people further off took up the cry: “Up the Archer, and down with Moneybags,” till the clamor echoed along the shore.  
     “I am the last woman to undervalue Lard the Archer,” said the Mistress warily (for Lard now stood close beside her). “She has tonight earned an eminent place in the roll of benefactors of our town; and she is worthy of many imperishable songs. But why O people?”- and here the Mistress rose to her feet and spoke very loud and clear- “why do I get all your blame? For what fault am I to be deposed? Who around the dragon from her slumber, I might ask? Who obtained of us rich gifts and ample food, and led us to believe that old songs could come true? Who played on our soft hearts and our pleasant fancies? What sort of gold have they sent down the river to reward us? Dragon-fire and ruin! From whom should we claim the recompense of our damage, and aid for our widows and orphans?”  
     As you see, the Mistress had not got her position for nothing. The result of her words was that for the moment the people quite forgot their idea of a new queen, and turned their angry thoughts towards More-in and her company. Wild and bitter words were shouted from many sides; and some of those who had before sung the old songs loudest, were now heard as loudly crying that the dwarves had stirred the dragon up against them deliberately!  
     “Fools!” said Lard. “Why waste words and wrath on those unhappy creatures? Doubtless they perished first and were devoured, before Scarf-down came to us.” Then even as she was speaking, the thought came into her heart of the fabled treasure of food of the Mountain lying without guard or owner, and she fell suddenly silent. She thought of the Mistress’s words, and of Dale rebuilt, and filled golden bells, if she could but find the people.  
     At length she spoke again: “This is no time for angry words, Mistress, or for considering weighty plans of change. There is work to do. I serve you still-- though after a while I may think again of your words and go North with any that will follow me.”  
     Then she strode off to help in the ordering of the camps and in the care of the sick and the wounded. But the Mistress scowled at her back as she went, and remained sitting on the ground. She thought much but said little, unless it was to call loudly for women to bring her fire and food. Now everywhere Lard went she found talk running like fire among the people concerning the vast food-stores that were now unguarded. People spoke of the recompense for all their harm that they would soon get from it, and wealth of edibles over and to spare with which to stuff themselves to bloated roundness; and it cheered them greatly in their plight. That was as well, for the night was bitter and miserable. Shelters could be contrived for few (the Mistress had one) and there was not nearly as much food as was wanted (the Mistress especially felt lacking). Many took ill of wet and cold and sorrow that night, and afterwards died, who had escaped uninjured from the ruin of the town; and in the days that followed there was much sickness.  
     Meanwhile Lard took the lead, and ordered things as she wished, though always in the Mistress’s name, and she had a hard task to govern the people and direct the preparations for their protection and housing. A particular difficulty was finding enough food to satisfy all. But, after some time, Lard sent scavengers throughout the ruins of Lake-town to retrieve the piece of Scarf-down’s flesh. As many of these as could be found were gathered in a central area on the shores of Long Lake, a great bonfire was contrived from the wooden remains of the town, and the dragon-meat was roasted and all were invited to eat their fill.  
     The Mistress particularly got hold of a huge pile of meat and stuffed her belly full. Before much of the long night was past, she had bloated out her belly too fat for her robe to hold it, and her rounded belly-flesh rose above her prone body, naked and tight and gleaming in the firelight.  
     Lard, too, had her fill and more, far more. Townsfolk, still celebrating her shot and slaying of the dragon, forced food on her whenever and wherever she appeared, and offered her intimate companionship too. She was too courteous to refuse, and besides that she felt it her due for slaying Scarf-down. Just as the Mistress of Lake-town, Lard’s belly quickly filled and swelled, blowing up huger even than that of the Mistress. And at every feast, she was treated to intercourse, with both sexes, often together. Women would eat her out, or lick and suck her tits, men would fuck her, in any hole she wished; she enjoyed all variations, sucking men off, being fucked in the ass. All the night through, Lard was fed and fucked to exhaustion, often by many at once. Early on, before her expanding belly made such exertions difficult, she was the center of a huge orgy, alternating sucking two cocks, jacking two more at the same time, laying atop a fifth and fucking him, and taking another in her ass. While she was thus entertained, two women leaned in and suckled on her tits.  
     As she grew fatter and her belly more stuffed, she grew less able to handle so many at once, but she rarely had less than three attending her at any time. Some of the men of Lake-town took to fucking the folds of her fat, and swelling, belly which pleased her immensely. She would also be fucked in both ass and pussy at once, while two women sucked on her tits, and two others, men or women or both, would stuff her mouth with dragon-meat, pushing it down her throat, filling her belly and blowing her up larger than ever.  
     As soon as what preparations could be made that night were finished, Lard collapsed onto the ground, her armor straining to contain her new gargantuan belly, rising tight and proud above her body as she lay, exhausted and panting with fullness and sexual satiation.  
     But the two prominent women, the hero and the minister, were far from the only ones stuffed to capacity that night. Scarf-down was so old and sizable a dragon, that her blown-up body provided sufficient meat for nearly all the surviving folk of Lake-town to cram themselves full enough to become immobile under their huge swollen domed bellies.  
     Probably most of them would have perished the winter that now hurried after autumn, if help had not been to hand. But help came swiftly; for Lard had at once had speedy messengers sent up the river to the Forest to ask the aid of the Queen of the Elves of the Wood, and these messengers had found a host already on the move, although it was then only the third day after the fall of Scarf-down.  
     The Elven-queen had received news from her own messengers and from the birds that loved her folk, and already knew much of what had happened. Very great indeed was the commotion among all things with wings that dwelt on the borders of the Desolation of the Dragon. The air was filled with circling flocks, and their swift-flying messengers flew here and there across the sky. Above the borders of the Forest there was whistling, crying and piping. Far over Gorge-wood tidings spread: “Scarf-down is dead!” Leaves rustled and startled ears were lifted. Even before the Elven-queen rode forth the news had passed west right to the pinewoods of the Meaty Mountains; Big-one had heard it in her wooden house, and the goblins were at council in their caves.  
     “That will be the last we shall hear of More-in Oakenbowl, I fear,” said the queen. “She would have done better to have remained my guest. It is an ill wind, all the same,” she added, “that blows no one any good.” For she too had not forgotten the legend of the wealth of food of Forker. So it was that Lard’s messengers found her now marching with many spearmen and archers; and crows were gathered thick above her, for they thought that war was awakening again, such as had not been in those parts for a long age. But the queen, when she received the prayers of Lard, had pity, for she was the ruler of a good and kindly people; so turning her march, which had at first been direct towards the Mountain, she hastened now down the river to the Long Lake. She had not boats or rafts enough for her host, and they were forced to go the slower way by foot; but great store of goods and food she sent ahead by water. Still elves are light-footed, fat though they may be, and though there were not in these days much used to the marshes and the treacherous lands between the Forest and the Lake, their going was swift. Only five days after the death of the dragon they came upon the shores and looked on the ruins of the town. Their welcome was good, as may be expected, and the folk and their Mistress were ready to make any bargain for the future in return for the Elven-queen’s aid.  
     Their plans were soon made. With the old and the unfit, the Mistress remained behind; and with her were some women of crafts and many skilled elves; and they busied themselves felling trees, and collecting the timber sent down from the Forest. Then they set about raising many huts by the shore against the oncoming winter; and also under the Mistress’s direction they began the planning of a new town, designed more fair and large even than before, but not in the same place. They removed northward higher up the shore; for ever after they had a dread of the water where the remains of the dragon lay. She would never again return to her bed of foodstuffs, but was laid in pieces, upon the floor of the shallows. There for ages bits of her flesh and bond could be found amid the ruined piles of the old town. But few dared to cross the cursed spot, and none dared to dive into the shivering water or recover any new meat.  
     But all the women and men of arms who were still able, and the most of the Elven-queen’s array, got ready to march north to the Mountain. It was thus that in eleven days from the ruin of the town the head of their host passed the rock-gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands.


	15. The Fattening of the Crowds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly plot exposition here. The folk of Lake-town and the Wood-elves come to the Mountain and ask More-in for aid and food. The dwarves feed and sex More-in to calm her.

     Now we will return to Belly-donna and the dwarves. All night one of them had watched, munching and filling her belly, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But ever more thickly the birds were gathering. Their companies came flying from the South; and the crows that still lived about the Mountain were wheeling and crying unceasingly above.  
     “Something strange is happening,” said More-in around a huge mouthful. “The time has gone for the autumn wanderings; and these are birds that dwell always in the land; there are starlings and flocks of finches; and far off there are many carrion birds as if a battle were afoot!”  
     Suddenly Belly-donna pointed: “There is that old thrush again!” she cried. “She seems to have escaped, when Scarf-down smashed the mountain-side, but I don’t suppose the snails have!”  
     Sure enough the old thrust was there, and as Belly-donna pointed, she flew towards them and perched on a stone near by. Then she fluttered her wings and sang; then she cocked her head on one side, as if to listen; and again she sang, and again she listened.  
     “I believe she is trying to tell us something,” said Balloon; “but I cannot follow the speech of such birds, it is very quick and difficult. Can you make it out Big’uns?”  
     “Not very well,” said Belly-donna (as a matter of fact, she could make nothing of it at all); “but the old lady seems very excited.”  
     “I only wish she was a raven!” said Balloon.  
     “I thought you did not like them! You seemed very shy of them, when we came this way before.”  
     “Those were crows! And nasty suspicious-looking creatures at that, and rude as well. You must have heard the ugly names they were calling after us. But the ravens are different. There used ot be great friendship between them and the people of Forker; and they often brought us secret news, and were rewarded with such tasty things as they coveted to eat hidden in their dwellings.  
     “They live many a year, and their memories are long, and they hand on their wisdom to their children. I knew many among the ravens of the rocks when I was a dwarf-lass. This very height was once named Ravenhill, because there was a wise and famous pair, old Carc and his wife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don’t suppose that any of that ancient breed linger here now.”  
     No sooner had she finished speaking than the old thrust gave a loud call, and immediately flew away.  
     “We may not understand her, but that old bird understands us, I am sure,” said Balloon. “Keep watch now, and see what happens!”  
     Before long there was a fluttering of wings, and back came the thrush; and with her came a most decrepit old bird. She was getting blind, she could hardly fly, and the top of her head was bald. She was an aged raven of great size. She alighted stiffly on the ground before them, slowly flapped her wings, and bobbed towards More-in.  
     “O More-in daughter of Gain, and Balloon daughter of Filling,” she croaked (and Belly-donna could understand what she said, for she used ordinary language and not bird-speech). “I am Röac daughter of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me. Now I am the chief of the great ravens of the Mountain. We are few, but we remember still the queen that was of old. Most of my people are abroad, for there are great tidings in the South-- some are tidings of joy to you, and some you will think not so good.  
     “Behold! the birds are gathering back again to the Mountain and to Dale from South and East and West, for word has gone out that Scarf-down is dead!”  
     “Dead? Dead!” shouted the dwarves. “Dead! Then we have been in needless fear-- and the treasure is ours!”  
     They all sprang up and began to caper for joy.  
     “Yes, dead,” said Röac. “The thrush, may her feathers never fall, saw her die, and we may trust her words. She saw her swell and burst into pieces in battle with the folk of Esgaroth the third night back from now at the rising of the moon.”  
     It was some time before More-in could bring the dwarves to be silent and listen to the ravens’ news. At length when he had told all the tale of the battle he went on:  
     “So much for joy, More-in Oakenbowl. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the food-hoard is your-- for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Forker has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager for a share of the spoils. Already a host of the elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake folk murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Scarf-down has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends and supplies from your food-treasure, whether you are alive or dead.  
     “Your own wisdom must decide your course, but thirteen is small remnant of the great folk of Diner that once dwelt here, and now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Mistress of the Lake-men, but rather in her that shot the dragon with her bow. Lard is she, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; she is a grim woman but true. We would see peace once more among dwarves and men and elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in food-trades. I have spoken.”  
     Then More-in burst forth in anger: “Our thanks, Röac Carc’s daughter. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our food shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you would send messengers to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my cousin Dine in the Icing Hills, for she has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. bid her hasten!”  
     “I will not say if this counsel be good or bad,” croaked Röac, “but I will do what can be done.” Then off she slowly flew.  
     “Back now to the Mountain!” cried More-in. “We have little time to lose.”  
     “And less food to use!” cried Belly-donna, “than I’d prefer anyway.” She was always ravenous on such points. In any case she felt that the adventure was, properly speaking, over with the death of the dragon-- in which she was much mistaken-- and she would have given much of her share of the profits for the peaceful winding up of these affairs.  
     “Back to the Mountain!” cried the dwarves, as if they had not heard her; so back she had to go with them. As you have heard some of the events already, you will see that the dwarves still had some days before them. They explored the caverns once more, and found, as they expected, that only the Front Gate remained open; all the other gates (except, of course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Scarf-down, and no sign of them remained. So now they began to labor hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in remaking the road that led from it, taking many breaks, of course, to eat often and much. Tools were to be found in plenty that the miners and quarriers and feasters of old had used; and at such work and feeding the dwarves were still very skilled.  
     As they worked, and ate, the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elven-queen had turned aside to the Lake, and they still had a breathing, and eating, space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering wild far down the banks of the Running River, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, and their massive feasting, Feedee and Foodie were sent, guided by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could.  
They were four days gone (taking so long since they paused just as often for meals just as large), and by that time they knew that the joined armies of the Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying towards the Mountain. But now their hopes were higher; for they had already blocked the gate with a wall of squared stones laid dry, but very thick and high across the opening. There were holes in the wall through which they could see (or shoot) but no entrance. They climbed in or out with ladders, and hauled stuff up with ropes. For the issuing of the stream they had contrived a small low arch under the new wall; but near the entrance they had so altered the narrow bed that a wide pool stretched from the mountain-wall to the head of the fall over which the stream went towards Dale. Approach to the Gate was now only possible, without swimming, or trying to drink the whole lake dry at once, along a narrow ledge of the cliff, to the right as one looked outwards from the wall. The ponies they had brought only to the head of the steps above the old bridge, and unloading them there had bidden them return to their mistresses and sent them back riderless to the South.  
     There came a night when suddenly there were many lights as of fires and torches away south in Dale before them.  
     “They have come!” called Balloon, inflated and bloated, floating above the wall as lookout. “And their camp is very great. They must have come into the valley under cover of dusk along both banks of the river.”  
     That night the dwarves slept little, and even ate rather less than their usual enormous dinners. The morning was still pale when they saw a company approaching. From behind their wall they watched them come up to the valley’s head and climb slowly up. Before long they could see that both men of the lake armed as if for war and elvish archers were among them. At length the foremost of these climbed the tumbled rocks and appeared at the top of the falls; and very great was their surprise to see the pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of new-hewn stone.  
     As they stood pointing and speaking to one another More-in hailed them: “Who are you,” she called in a very loud voice, “that come as if in war to the gates of More-in daughter of Gain, Queen under the Mountain, and what do you desire?”  
     But they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and others after gazing for a while at the Gate and its defenses soon followed them. That day the camp was moved and was brought right between the arms of the Mountain. The rocks echoed then with voices and with song and with eating, as they had not done for many a day. There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring.  
     Then Belly-donna longed to escape from the dark fortress and to go down and join in the mirth and feasting by the fires. Some of the younger dwarves were moved in their hearts and bellies, too, and they muttered that they wished things had fallen out otherwise and that they might welcome such folk as friends; but More-in scowled.  
     Then the dwarves themselves brought forth harps and instruments and foods regained from the hoard, and made music and huge feast to soften her mood; but their song was not as elvish song, and was much like the song they had sung long before in Belly-donna’s little hobbit-hole.

> _Under the Mountain dark and tall_  
>  _The Queen has come into her hall!_  
>  _Her foe is burst, the Dragon worst,_  
>  _And ever so her foes shall fall._  
>  _The knife is sharp, the fork is strong,_  
>  _The service swift, the Feast is long;_  
>  _The belly feels good that feasts on food;_  
>  _The dwarves no more shall fast so long._  
>  _The dwarves of yore made mighty meals_  
>  _While pans and pots rang out in peals_  
>  _In kitchens deep where dark things sleep,_  
>  _In hollow halls beneath the hills._  
>  _On silver platters high they placed_  
>  _The massive feasts, kebobs they laced_  
>  _With many meats, the most to eat_  
>  _The dwarves at piled tables raced._  
>  _The mountain foods once more can feed!_  
>  _O! wandering folk, the summons heed!_  
>  _Come haste! Come haste! Expand your waist!_  
>  _The queen of friend and kin forcefeeds._  
>  _Now call we over mountains cold,_  
>  _‘Come back unto the kitchens old’!_  
>  _Here at table the Queen is able_  
>  _To feed all that bellies can hold._  
>  _The Queen has come into her hall!_  
>  _Under the Mountain dark and tall_  
>  _Dragon the worst, her belly burst_  
>  _And ever so our foes shall fall._  
> 

  
     This song appeared to please More-in, and she smiled and grew merry; and she began stuffing her belly all the more, and the dwarves (and the hobbit) joined in, devouring huge masses of their food, and reveling in the expansion of their already-huge bellies.  
     This time, they all catered to More-in. As previously, several dwarves lined up on each side of her body, forming a chain to pass food from the piles surrounding them straight down her throat, which More-in kept gaping open wide; while others climbed over More-in’s body, licking and sucking on her body. One by one, huge dishes were crammed into her, spreading her cheeks, then forcing down her throat stretching it wide, and finally packing tight into her belly, filling it and packing tight, then expanding it outwards as her company continued shoving more and more huge mouthfuls into her. Before very long, More-in’s belly was engorged into a huge dome rising above her body, and still inflating more as the dwarves kept feeding her.  
     While the dwarves were stuffing More-in bigger and bigger, Balloon and Glut lay on her tits, licking them and sucking on her nipples. Eater crawled under her huge bloating belly and drove her tongue deep inside her pussy, giving her orgasm after orgasm. More-in herself reached her hands up to caress her gigantic and growing belly, rubbing along the exposed tight skin. More and more the dwarves fed her, blowing her up larger and larger, trying to inflate her belly to dragon-size. This was clearly impossible, but they tried valiantly to get her as fat as they could.  
     By the time they finished stuffing, panting exhausted from their efforts, More-in had swelled up to nearly ten times her size, bloated beyond imagining. Her belly was so enormous that, lying down as she was, it completely covered her arms and legs, holding her immobile by its weight. Only her hands were free, but only barely, and she used them to rub and caress what little of her mammoth belly she could reach, sending tingles of pleasure through her body. The feeding done, Eater was trapped under the huge weight More-in’s belly, still eating her out and making her cum non-stop until More-in was insensible, lost in endless orgasms. More-in’s body was so massive now, that more dwarves crowded onto her tits, licking and rubbing the tight skin. The rest rubbed the rest of More-in’s huge taut belly, licking the salty, sweat-sheened skin. Nearly every inch of More-in’s stuffed, enormous body was licked, sucked, and caressed by the rest of the dwarves.  
     Distracted though she was by the wondrous stuffing and incredible pleasure, More-in was reckoning the distance to the Icing Hills and how long it would be before Dine could reach the Lonely Mountain, if she had set out as soon as the message reached her. But Belly-donna’s heart fell, both at the song and the talk: they sounded much too warlike. The next morning early a company of spearmen was seen crossing the river, and marching up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elven-queen and the blue banner of the Lake, and they advanced until they stood right before the wall at the Gate.  
     Again More-in hailed them in a loud voice: “Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of More-in daughter of Gain, Queen under the Mountain?” This time she was answered.  
     A huge woman stood forward, dark of hair and grim of face, with her belly hanging far over her belt, and she cried: “Hail More-in! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in her hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is a matter for a parley and a council.”  
     ”Who are you, and of what would you parley?”  
     “I am Lard, and by my hand was the dragon’s belly burst and your food delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am by right descent the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the food from his halls and town, which of old Scarf-down stole. Is that not a matter of which we may speak? Further in her last battle Scarf-down destroyed the dwellings of the folk of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Mistress. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far brought ruin only, though doubtless undesigned.”  
     Now these were fair words and true, if proudly and grimly spoken; and Belly-donna thought that More-in would at once admit what justice was in them. She did not, of course, expect that any one would remember that it was she who excited Scarf-down, and so the dragon stuffed her belly before flying to Lake-town, letting Lard’s shot pop her; and that was just as well, for no one ever did. But also she did not reckon with the power that food had upon which a dragon has long brooded, nor with dwarvish bellies. Long hours in the past days More-in had spent in the treasure, and the gluttony for it was heavy on her. Though she had hunted chiefly for the Freezing-stone, yet she had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there, about which were wound old memories of the labors and the sorrows of her race.  
     “You put your worst cause last and in the chief place,” More-in answered. “To the treasure of my people no woman has a claim, because Scarf-down who stole it from us also robbed her of life or home. The treasure was not hers that her evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the foods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay-- in due time. But nothing will we give, not even a loaf’s worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.  
     “It is my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain and eaten up.”  
     “A just question,” replied Lard. “But you are not dead, and we are not robbers. Moreover the well-supplied may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And still my other claims remain unanswered.”  
     “I will not parley, as I have said, with armed soldiers at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elven-queen, whom I remember with small kindness. In this debate they have no place. Begone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak with me again, first dismiss the elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold.”  
     “The Elven-queen is my...friend, and she succored the people of the Lake in their need, though they had no claim but friendship on her,” answered Lard, with a secret smile. “We will give you time to repent your words. Gather you wisdom were we return!” Then she departed and went back to the camp.  
     Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast:  
     “In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest,” one cried, “we speak to More-in Gain’s daughter Oakenbowl, calling herself Queen under the Mountain, and we bid her consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At least she shall deliver one twelfth portion of the food recovered unto Lard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Lard will herself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if More-in would have the friendship and honor of the lands about, as her dames had of old, then she will give also somewhat of her own for the comfort of the folk of the Lake.” Then More-in seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into her shield and stuck there quivering.  
     “Since such is your answer,” she called in return, “I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side for a truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your food. Eat it up, as long as it lasts!”  
     With that the messengers departed swiftly, and the dwarves were left to consider their case. So grim had More-in become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with her; but indeed most of them seemed to share her mind-- except perhaps huge old Bom-berry and Feedee and Foodie. Belly-donna, of course, disapproved of the whole turn of affairs. She had by now more than enough of the Mountain, and being besieged inside it was not at all to her taste.  
     “The whole place still stinks of dragon,” she grumbled to herself, “and it makes me sick. And, impossible as I would have thought it, having even this endless food in this Mountain is simply depressing.” 


	16. A Stuffing in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves spend the siege stuffing and having sex. But Belly-donna is troubled about the future, and makes a deal with the humans and elves. They repay her with an impressive stuffing and sex session of her own.

    Now the days passed slowly and wearily. The dwarves spent their time feeding and fucking each other all the day through, and Ms. Big’uns, too; what else could she do? At any time throughout the day, most of the fourteen (More-in usually had one or more dwarves standing guard at the Gate) would be found in the main chamber, surrounded by food, using it to stuff each other to their limits, and beyond what they thought were limits. As a dwarf got packed with food, she would be fingered and licked and sucked too. Another part of the treasure, not touched by the dragon (they were far too small for her), was a huge collection of sex toys: dildos, strap-on dildos, even vibrators. Feeding equipment too: funnels, tubes, pumps, and more.  
    The dwarves, More-in especially, were growing fat enough that they could fit many sex partners at once. More-in would lie flat on her back, with her stuffed huge belly rising proudly above her body and her bloated and fattened limbs spread-eagled. Feeder and Treater would cram a huge funnel in her wide open mouth and pour all manner of food into her, swelling up her belly (and whole body, once she digested it all) even more and more vast and elephantine. While she was thus inflating with food, others, maybe Foodie, Eater, Glut, and others, would suck on her nipples, lick all over her tight huge belly, and with the new toys, fuck her pussy with at least one huge dildo, often two or even three at once, in both her pussy and her ass. Meanwhile, two more would sit on her hands, letting her finger them to their own pleasure.  
    Balloon could use the pumps to inflate herself with air, swelling into a huge round balloon, which the other dwarves could throw and bat around the huge room; Balloon really got off on that sort of play. The dwarves would often play a game of trying to throw the gigantically inflated round Balloon onto huge dildos mounted on the floor. When the won, she would be impaled on it all the way to the floor, forcing it deep inside her tight inflated pussy.  
    The pumps could also force huge amounts of wine, or ale, or any drink into a dwarven target. Even soft food could go through them, blowing up the dwarf to immensity with little effort from the feeder(s). Feedee particularly enjoyed that, having a tube down her throat from a pump, with two dwarves on it, one pumping and the other feeding food into the pump; as with More-in (or any other dwarf), as one or two fed, the others would lick, suck, and fuck. As Feedee inflated with food and wine, her tits were covered with dwarves, licking and sucking, and two or three used the strap-ons to fuck her mindless, as she blew up rapidly like a water-balloon.  
    Bom-berry found a surprisingly large stash of berries that she could use to swell to her giant round berry shape. She could, and did, use them often to blow herself up. Once, she used two at once, swelling up so that her body was impossibly bloated, so full that even the dents engulfing her limbs filled in, making of her a smooth round ball, with no trace even of where her limbs and head might be buried. She came so much and so long from that, that she was sunk in a pool of her own blueberry juice almost 2 inches deep. And just as at Sit-and-fill, when the elves drank from her nipples and pussy and blew up into huge berries themselves, the other dwarves sucked down her juices, and there were many berries rolling around in the vast hall, each one lost in her own endless cumming.  
    And now and again More-in spoke of the Freezing-stone of Gain, and bade them take time from their endless stuffing and sex to look for it in every corner.  
    “For the Freezing-stone of my mother,” she said, “is worth more than a river of gold in itself, and to me it is beyond price, for it can preserve food for ever. That stone of all the treasure I name unto myself, and I will be avenged on anyone who finds it and withholds it.”  
    Belly-donna heard these words and she grew afraid, wondering what would happen, if the stone was found-- wrapped in an old bundle of tattered oddments that she used as a pillow. All the same she did not speak of it, for as the weariness of the days grew heavier (along with the dwarves and herself too), the beginnings of a plan had come into her little head.  
    Things had gone on like this for some time, the dwarves stuffing themselves and each other ever fatter and fatter, when the ravens brought news that Dine and more than five hundred dwarves, hurrying from the Icing Hills, were now within about two days’ march of Dale, coming from the North-East.  
    “But they cannot reach the Mountain unmarked,” said Röac, “and I fear lest there be battle in the valley. I do not call this counsel good. Though they are a grim folk, they are not likely to overcome the host that besets you; and even if they do so, what will you gain? Winter and snow is hastening behind them. Once you finish the treasure-hoard of food here, which I think will not be too long, how shall you be stocked without the friendship and goodwill of the lands about you? This course is likely to be your death, though the dragon is no more!”  
    But More-in was not moved. “Winter and snow will bite both men and elves,” she said, “and they may find their dwelling in the Waste grievous to bear. With my friends behind them and winter upon them, they will perhaps be in softer mood to parley with.”  
    That night Belly-donna made up her mind. They sky was black and moonless. As soon as it was full dark, she went to a corner of an inner chamber just within the gate and drew from her bundle a rope, and also the Freezing-stone wrapped in a rag. Then she climbed to the top of the wall. Only Bom-berry was there, for it was her turn to watch, and the dwarves kept only one watcher at a time.  
    “It is mighty cold!” said Bom-berry. “I wish we could have a fire up here as they have in the camp!”  
    “It is warm enough inside, and there is plenty of food to stuff yourself with too,” said Belly-donna.  
    “I daresay; but I am bound here till midnight,” grumbled the bloateb dwarf-berry. “A sorry business altogether. Not that I venture to disagree with More-in, may her belly grow ever fatter; yet she was ever a dwarf with a stiff neck.”  
    “Not as stiff as my legs,” said Belly-donna. “I am tired of stairs and stone passages. I would give a good deal for the feel of grass at my toes. And food that isn’t from a dragon’s hoard too.”  
    “I would give a good deal for the feel of gallons of drink pouring down my throat, blowing me up, and for a soft bed after that to bloat in!”  
    “I can’t give you those, while this siege is going on. But it is long since I watched, and I will take your turn for you, if you like. There is no sleep in me tonight.”  
    “You are a good lass, Ms. Big’uns, and I will take your offer kindly. If there should be anything to note, rouse me first, mind you! I will lie in the inner chamber to the left, not far away.”  
    “Off you go!” said Belly-donna. “I will wake you at midnight, and you can wake the next watcher.” As soon as Bom-berry had gone, she popped one of her special berries and already starting to swell up, starting to waddle as her body bloated into a huge berry, packed to her limits with juice, and finally rolling as she became totally round with her limbs engulfed. Belly-donna fastened her rope, slipped down over the wall, and was gone. She had about five hours before her. Bom-berry would be lost in her bloated rolling body (she could easily orgasm from being full to bursting with liquid, and for hours at a time, ever since the adventure in the forest); and the others were busy stuffing More-in again, and feeding and fucking each other too. It was unlikely that any, even Feedee or Foodie, would come out on the wall until it was their turn. It was very dark, and the road after a while, when she left the newly made path and climbed down towards the lower course of the stream, was strange to her. At last she came to the bend where she had to cross the water, if she was to make for the camp, as she wished. The bed of the stream was there shallow but already broad, and fording it in the dark was not easy for the short pudgy hobbit. She was nearly across when she missed her footing on a round stone and fell into the cold water with a splash. She had barely scrambled out on the far bank, shivering and spluttering, when up came elves in the gloom with bright lanterns and searched for the cause of the noise.  
    “That was no fish!” one said. “There is a spy about. Hide your lights! They will help her more than us, if it is that queer little creature that is said to be their servant.”  
    “Servant, indeed!” snorted Belly-donna; and in the middle of her snort, she sneezed loudly, and the elves immediately gathered towards the sound.  
    “Let’s have a light!” she said. “I am here if you want me!” and she popped from behind a rock.  
    They seized her quickly, in spite of their surprise. “Who are you? Are you the dwarves’ hobbit? What are you doing? How did you get so far past our sentinels?” they asked one after another.  
    “I am Ms. Belly-donna Big’uns,” she answered, proudly hefting her enormous belly and gigantic tits, “companion of More-in, if you want to know. I know you queen well by sight, though perhaps she doesn’t know me to look at. But Lard will remember me, and it is Lard I particularly want to see.”  
    “Indeed!” said they, “and what may be your business?”  
    “Whatever it is, it’s my own, my good elves. But if you wish ever to get back to your own woods from this cold cheerless place,” she answered shivering, jiggling her fatty belly and bosom, “you will take me along quiet to a fire, where I can dry-- and then you will let me speak to your chieftesses as quick as may be. I have only an hour or two to spare.”  
    That is how it came about that some two hours after her escape from the Gate, Belly-donna was sitting beside a warm fire in front of a large tent, and there sat too, gazing curiously at her, both the Elven-queen and Lard. A hobbit as hugely fat as this one, partly wrapped in an old blanket, was something new to them.  
    “Really, you know,” Belly-donna was saying, in her best business manner, “things are impossible. Personally I am tired of the whole affair. I wish I was back in the West in my own home, stuffing my belly to immensity among far more reasonable folk. But I have an interest in this matter-- one fourteenth share, to be precise, according to a letter, which fortunately I believe I have kept.” She drew from a pocket in her old jacket (which she still wore, stretched over her gargantuan belly), crumpled and much folded, More-in’s letter that had been put on the candy dish in her living-room in May!  
    “A share in the profits, mind you,” she went on. “I am aware of that. Personally I am only too ready to consider all your claims carefully, and deduct what is right from the total before putting in my own claim. However you don’t know More-in Oakenbowl as well as I do now. I assure you, she is quite ready to eat away the whole hoard, and then starve, as long as you sit here.”  
    “Well, let her!” said Lard. “Such a fool deserves what she gets.”  
    “Quite so,” said Belly-donna. “I see your point of view. At the same time winter is coming on fast. Before long you will be having snow and what not, and supplies will be difficult-- even for elves I imagine. Also there will be other difficulties. You have not heard of Dine and the dwarves of the Icing Hills?”  
    “We have, a long time ago; but what had she got to do with us?” asked the queen.  
    “I thought as much. I see I have some information you have not got. Dine, I may tell you, is now less than two days’ march off, and has at least five hundred grim dwarves with her-- a good many of them have had experience in the dreadful dwarf and goblin wars, of which you have no doubt heard. When they arrive there may be serious trouble.”  
    “Why do you tell us this? Are you betraying your friends, or are you threatening us?” asked Lard grimly.  
    “My dear Lard!” squeaked Belly-donna. “Don’t be so hasty! I have never met such suspicious folk! I am merely trying to avoid trouble for all concerned. Now I will make you an offer!”  
    “Let us hear it!” they said.  
    “You may see it!” said she. “It is this!” and she drew forth the Freezing-stone, and threw away the wrapping.  
    The Elven-queen herself, whose eyes were used to things of wonder and beauty, stood up in amazement. Even Lard gazed marvelling at it in silence. It was as if a globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars.  
    “This is the Freezing-stone of Gain,” said Belly-donna, “the Heart of the Mountain; and it is also the heart of More-in. She values it above a river of gold. I give it to you. It will aid you in your bargaining.” Then Belly-donna, not without a shudder, sending her fattened belly wobbling, not without a glance of longing, handed the marvellous stone to Lard, and she held it in her hand, as though dazed.  
    “But how is it yours to give?” she asked at last with an effort.  
    “O well!” said the hobbit uncomfortably. “It isn’t exactly; but, well, I am willing to let it stand against all my claim, don’t know know. I may be a burglar-- or so they say: personally I never really felt like one-- but I am an honest one, I hope, more or less. Anyway I am going back now, and the dwarves can do what they like to me. I hope you will find it useful.”  
The Elven-queen looked at Belly-donna with a new wonder.  
    “Belly-donna Big’uns!” she said. “You are more worthy to share in Elvish feasting than many that have been seated at many. But I wonder if More-in Oakenbowl will see it so. I have more knowledge of dwarves in general that you have perhaps. I advise you to remain with us, and here you shall be honored and thrice welcomed and fed.”  
    “Thank you very much I am sure,” said Belly-donna with a bow. “But I don’t think I ought to leave my friends like this, after all we have gone through together. And I promised to wake old Bom-berry at midnight, too! Really I must be going, and quickly.”  
    “Very well,” said the Elven-queen. “But you must stay a little at the least, and we shall feed you well in recompense for this act.”  
    Belly-donna happily gave in, and was shown to a private tent. Quickly, as she sat waiting, piles upon piles of food were deposited all around her. Her eyes lit up and she stripped naked (making sure her ring was still on a bloated finger), gave her whole body a quick rub over her massive tits and belly, and dove in, almost literally, grabbing huge handfuls of food in each hand and cramming them one after the other into her mouth. Her cheeks stretched out as she tried to chew and swallow the huge packed mass in her mouth, even as her hands kept packing more in. Finally, she just relaxed her throat and let the incoming handfuls force the half-chewed mass down her throat into her filling belly. With her throat as wide open as it could go, Belly-donna somehow sped up her stuffing, forcing so much food down that her throat actually swelled with the vast amount of food flowing down. Faster and faster still, Belly-donna raced through the huge tentful of food. She quickly found a rhythm, and a huge river of food flowed steadily into the hobbit’s belly. Her cheeks were still stretched wide, her throat was bloated with the flow, and her belly grew impossibly fast, swelling like a balloon with the enormous mass of food she took in.  
    Bare minutes later, the hobbit had amazingly finished the whole tent’s worth of food. Her belly was packed to its limit; huge and tight. Its taut full dome forced her down to the ground on her back, with her stomach rising up nearly her own height. Her thoughts returning from the frenzy of mindless stuffing, she struggled to get up, to go back and wake Bom-berry. But her huge, tightly packed belly was so enormous that she couldn’t regain her feet; all she could manage was a tiny wobble as she fought with her massively fat belly, trying to stand.  
    Two elves, gaping in amazement at her stuffing feat, were sent in to pull her to her feet. But before they got her up, they got her off; the two each went to one of the hobbit’s gigantic tits, massaging the huge fleshy globes and latching their lips onto her hard erect nipples and sucking them hard. Two more, sent in to see what was taking so long, joined in. One dug underneath her gargantuan belly, searching for her pussy; upon finding it, she jammed her tongue inside, finding it surprisingly difficult; Belly-donna’s massive stuffing had inflated her pussy lips too, and it was very tight. The last elf crawled onto Ms. Big’uns’s massive domed belly, tight and hard with the massive load, but still having a soft deep layer of fat on it. The elf crawled all over the enormous expanse of flesh, licking and rubbing the sweat-slick skin, and driving both her fingers and her tongue (alternately) into the deep deep belly-button, fucking it as if it was another pussy. Belly-donna moaned in ecstasy at the many elvish ministrations to her hugely distended and sensitive flesh, one orgasm following so fast the previous that she didn’t stop cumming at all for nearly half an hour.  
    As she lay, wilted and exhausted after the marathon feeding and fucking, her ring flared on her finger, and she started to digest. Her belly slowly shrunk as the fat distributed over her body, evening out, and in several minutes, she could (slowly) get to her feet and waddle heavily and slowly back. She tried to slip her clothes back on; and though it was exceedingly difficult with her new huger girth, she managed to cover her body enough for shelter from the night’s cold and to fool Bom-berry and the rest of the dwarves that she hadn’t been away.  
    Nothing they could say more would stop her; so an escort was provided for her to help her walk, as stuffed and bloated as she still was, and as she went both the queen and Lard saluted her, and the massive volume she stuffed in herself, with honor. As they passed through the camp a woman wrapped in a dark cloak rose from a tent door where she was sitting, rubbing her huge tits and belly, and came towards them.  
    “Well done! Ms. Big’uns! Well eaten indeed!” she said, clapping Belly-donna on her wide, fatty back. “There is always more about you than anyone expects!” It was Lardass.  
    For the first time for many a day Belly-donna was really delighted. But there was no time for all the questions that she immediately wished to ask.  
    “All in good time!” said Lardass. “Things are drawing towards the end now, unless I am mistaken. There is an unpleasant time just in front of you; but keep your belly full! You may come through all right. There is news brewing that even the ravens have not heard. Good night!”  
    Puzzled but cheered, Belly-donna waddled on. She was guided to a safe ford and set across dry, and then she said farewell to the elves and climbed heavily back towards the Gate. Great weariness came over her (from the massive effort of her recent stuffing, and the energy taken to digest the gigantic load); but it was still before midnight when she struggled up the rope again-- it was still where she had left it. She untied it and hid it, and then she sat down heavily on the wall and wondered, rubbing absently her huge tight belly, anxiously what would happen next.  
At midnight she woke up Bom-berry; and then in turn rolled herself into a corner, without listening to the old dwarf’s thanks (which she felt she had hardly earned). She was soon fast asleep, laying atop her gigantic belly spreading out on all sides, forgetting all her worries till the morning. As a matter of fact, she was dreaming of eggs and bacon; gigantic piles of both, all poured without any effort of her own down her wide throat blowing her up so large to make her last feeding seem nothing.


	17. The Bellies Burst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things do not improve between More-in and her folk and the armies surrounding them. But when a massive goblin army arrive, they band together to eat the goblins into bursting.

     Next day the trumpets rang early in the camp. Soon a single runner was seen hurrying along the narrow path. At a distance she stood and hailed them, asking whether More-in would now listen to another embassy, since new tidings had come to hand, and matters were changed.  
     “That will be Dine!” said More-in when she heard. “They will have got wind of her coming. I thought that would alter their mood! Bid them come few in number and weaponless, and I will hear,” she called to the messenger.  
     About midday the banners of the Forest and the Lake were seen to be borne forth again. A company of twenty was approaching. At the beginning of the narrow way they laid aside sword and spear, and came on toward the Gate. Wondering, the dwarves saw that among them were both Lard and the Elven-queen, before whom a woman wrapped in a loose cloak and hood bore a strong casket of iron-bound wood.  
     “Hail More-in!” said Lard. “Are you still of the same mind?”  
     “My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns,” answered More-in. “Did you come to ask me idle questions? Still the elf-host has not departed as I bade! Till then you come in vain to bargain with me.”  
     “Is there nothing for which you would yield any of your hoard?”  
     “Nothing that you or your friends have to offer.”  
     “What of the Freezing-stone of Gain?” said she, and at the same moment the woman opened the casket and held aloft the jewel. The light leapt from her hand, bright and white in the morning.  
     Then More-in was stricken dumb with amazement and confusion. No one spoke for a long while. More-in at length broke the silence, and her voice was thick with wrath. “That stone was my mother’s, and is mine,” she said. “Why should I purchase my own?” But wonder overcame her and she added: “But how came you by the heirloom of my house-- if there is need to ask such a question of thieves?”  
     “We are not thieves,” Lard answered. “Your own we will give back in return for our own.”  
     “How came you by it?” shouted More-in in gathering rage.  
     “I gave it them!” squeaked Belly-donna, who was peeping over the wall, by now, in a dreadful fright.  
     “You! You!” cried More-in, turning upon her and grasping her with both hands. “You miserable hobbit! You bloated and obese burglar!” she shouted at a loss for words, and she shook poor Belly-donna, sending huge waves jiggling through her massive fat.  
     “By the belly of Diner! I wish I had Lardass here! Curse her for her choice of you! May her tits and belly shrink and fade! As for you I will throw you to the rocks!” she cried and she struggled to heft the massively fat hobbit. Finding her far too heavy to lift, More-in set herself to just shove her off the wall.  
     “Stay! Your wish is granted!” said a voice. The woman with the casket threw aside her hood and cloak. “Here is Lardass! And none too soon it seems. If you don’t like my Burglar, please don’t damage her. Listen first to what she has to say!”  
     “You all seem in league!” said More-in unhanding Belly-donna on the top of the wall. “Never again will I have dealings with any wizard or her friends. What have you to say, you descendant of rats?”  
     “Dear me! Dear me!” said Belly-donna. “I am sure this is all very uncomfortable. You may remember saying that I might choose my own fourteenth share? Perhaps I took it too literally-- I have been told that dwarves are sometimes politer in word than in deed. The time was, all the same, when you seemed to think that I had been of some service. Descendant of rats, indeed! Is this all the service of you and your family that I was promised, More-in? Take it that I have disposed of my share as I wished, and let it go at that!”  
     “I will,” said More-in grimly. “And I will let you go at that-- and may we never meet again!” Then she turned and spoke over the wall. “I am betrayed,” she said. “It was rightly guessed that I could not forbear to redeem the Freezing-stone, the treasure of my house. For it I will give one fourteenth share of the hoard in all manner of food, setting aside the confections and desserts; but that shall be accounted the promised share of the traitor, and with that reward she shall depart, and you can divide it as you will. She will get little enough, I doubt not. Take her, if you wish her to live; and no friendship of mine goes with her.  
     “Get down now to your new friends!” she said to Belly-donna, “or I will shove you down there.”  
     “What about the food and all?” asked Belly-donna.  
     “That shall follow after, as can be arranged,” said she. “Get down!”  
     “Until then we keep the stone,” cried Lard.  
     “You are not making a very splendid figure as Queen under the Mountain, though you have grown splendidly obese,” said Lardass. “But things may change yet.”  
     “They may indeed,” said More-in. And already, so strong was the bewilderment and gluttony of the treasure upon her, she was pondering whether by the help of Dine she might not recapture the Freezing-stone and withhold the share of the reward.  
     And so Belly-donna was swung down from the wall, and departed with nothing for all her trouble. More than one of the dwarves in their hearts felt shame and pity at her going.  
     “Farewell!” she cried to them. “We may meet again as friends.”  
     “Be off!” called More-in. “You have eaten massive amounts of our food, which was made by my folk, and was too good for you. Your belly carries the fat of it all; if you do not hasten, I will fry it off your body. So be swift!”  
     “Not so hasty!” said Lard. “We will give you until tomorrow. At noon we will return, and see if you have brought from the hoard the portion that is to be set against the stone. If that is done without deceit, then we will depart, and the elf-host will go back to the Forest. In the meanwhile farewell!”  
     With that they went back to the camp; but More-in sent messengers by Röac telling Dine of what had passed, and bidding her come with wary speed.  
     That day passed and the night. The next day the wind shifted west, and the air was dark and gloomy. The morning was still early when a cry was heard in the camp. Runners came in to report that a host of dwarves had appeared round the eastern spur of the Mountain and was now hastening to Dale. Dine had come. She had hurried on through the night, and so had come upon them sooner than they had expected. Each one of her folk was clad in a loose tunic, easy to fill with fat bellies, that hung to her knees over her already-distended fat belly, and her legs were nearly covered by the apron of fat hanging down over them.  
     The dwarves are exceedingly strong for their height, but most of these were strong even for dwarves. At table, they ate with serving-ladles; but each of them had a set of personal tableware at her side and a huge round platter slung at her back. Their breasts jutted out far and their bellies, even supported, hung far below their belts. Their caps were of iron and they were shod with iron, and their faces were grim. Trumpets called men and elves to arms. Before long the dwarves could be seen coming up the valley at a great pace. They halted between the river and the eastern spur; but a few held on their way, and crossing the river drew near the camp; and there they held up their hands in sign of peace. Lard went out to meet them, and with her went Belly-donna.  
     “We are sent from Dine daughter of Weight,” they said when questioned. “We are hastening to our kinswomen in the Mountain, since we learn that the Kingdom of old is renewed. But who are you that sit in the plains as foes before defended walls?” This, of course, in the polite and rather old-fashioned language of such occasions, meant simply: “You have no business here. We are going on, so make was or we shall challenge you!” They meant to push on between the Mountain and the loop of the river, for the narrow land there did not seem to be strongly guarded.  
     Lard, of course, refused to allow the dwarves to go straight on to the Mountain. She was determined to wait until the food had been brought out in exchange for the Freezing-stone; for she did not believe that this would be done, if once the fortress was manned with so large and warlike a company. They had brought with them a great store of supplies; for the dwarves can carry very heavy burdens, especially of food, and nearly all of Dine’s folk, in spite of their rapid march, bore huge packs on their backs filled to overflowing with foodstuffs. They would stand a siege for long indeed, and by that time yet more dwarves might come, and yet more, for More-in had many relatives, each one fatter than the last. Also they would be able to reopen and guard some other gate, so that the besiegers would have to encircle the whole mountain; and for that they had not sufficient numbers.  
     These were, in fact, precisely their plans (for the raven-messengers had been busy between More-in and Dine); but for the moment the way was barred, so after angry words the dwarf-messengers retired muttering into their massive tits. Lard then sent messengers at once to the Gate; but they found no food or payment. Arrows came forth as soon as they were within shot, and they hastened back in dismay. In the camp all was not astir, as if for contest; for the dwarves of Dine were advancing along the eastern bank.  
     “Fools!” laughed Lard, “to come thus beneath the Mountain’s arm! They do not understand war above ground, whatever they may know of feeding in their kitchens. There are many of our folk now ready to contest with them. Dwarves may be hardy in consumption, but they will soon be hard put to it. Let us set on them now from both sides, while they are still fully stuffed!”  
     But the Elven-queen said: “Long will I tarry, ere I begin this gratuitous feeding. The dwarves cannot press us, unless we will, or do anything that we cannot mark. Let us hope still for something that will bring reconciliation. Our advantage in numbers will be enough, if in the end it must come to such a contest.”  
     But she reckoned without the dwarves. The knowledge that the Freezing-stone was in the hands of the besiegers burned in their bellies; and also they guessed the hesitation of Lard and her friends, and resolved to strike while they debated.  
     Suddenly without a signal they sprang silently forward to attack, making for the food-stores of the human and elvish camp. Their plan now was to devour all the food their enemies had, and force them to withdraw.  
     Still more suddenly a darkness came on with dreadful swiftness! A black cloud hurried over the sky. Winter thunder on a wild wind rolled roaring up and rumbled in the Mountain, and lightning lit its peak. And beneath the thunder another blackness could be seen whirling forward; but it did not come with the wind, it came from the North, like a vast cloud of birds, so dense that no light could be seen between their wings.  
     “Halt!” cried Lardass, who appeared suddenly, and stood alone, with belly bulging and tits ballooned, between the advancing dwarves and the ranks awaiting them. “Halt!” she called in a voice like thunder, and her staff blazed forth with a flash like lightning. “Dread has come upon you all! Alas! it has come more swiftly than I guessed. The Goblins are upon you! Bolg of the North is coming. O Dine! whose mother you slew in Moria. Behold! The bats are above her army like a sea of locusts, ready to devour all. They ride upon wolves and Wolfers are in their train!”  
     Amazement and confusion fell upon them all. Even as Lardass had been speaking the darkness grew. The dwarves halted and gazed at the sky. The elves cried out with many voices.  
     “Come!” called Lardass. “There is yet time for council. Let Dine daughter of Weight come swiftly to us!”  
     So began a contest that none had expected; and it was called the Feeding of Five Armies, and it was very impressive. Upon one side were the Goblins and the wild Wolves, and upon the other were Elves and Men and Dwarves. This is how it fell out. Even since the popping of the Great Goblin of the Meaty Mountains the hatred of their race for the dwarves had been rekindled to fury, and unquenchable hunger. Messengers had passed to and fro between all their kitchens, pantries, and storehouses; for they resolved now to win the dominion of the North. Tidings they had gathered in secret ways; and in all the mountains there was preparing and feasting to expand the bellies. Then they marched and gathered by hill and valley, going ever by tunnel or under dark, until around and beneath the great mountain Gundabad of the North, where was their capital, a vast host was assembled ready to sweep down in time of storm unawares upon the South. Then they learned of the death of Scarf-down, and joy was in their hearts: and they hastened night after night through the mountains, and came thus at last on a sudden from the North hard on the heels of Dine. Not even the ravens knew of their coming until they came out in the broken lands which divided the Lonely Mountain from the hills behind. How much Lardass knew cannot be said, but it is plain that she had not expected this sudden assault.  
     This is the plan that she made in council with the Elven-queen and with Lard; and with Dine, for the dwarf-lord now joined them: the Goblins were the foes of all, and at their coming all other quarrels were forgotten. Their only hope was to lure the goblins into the valley between the arms of the Mountain, with massive amounts of food, for goblins, if you remember, are always hungry and will turn aside to gobble anything they may get hold of easily; and themselves to man the great spurs that struck south and east, to keep the goblins contained, should they be not stuffed enough that they would be still mobile. Yet this could be perilous, if the goblins’ hunger and frenzy were aroused sufficiently by their stuffing (and if they be still mobile) for them to turn on the surrounding force; but there was no time to make any other plan, or to summon any help.  
     Soon the thunder passed, rolling away to the South-East; but the bat-cloud came, flying lower, over the shoulder of the Mountain, and whirled above them shutting out the light and filling them with dread.  
     “To the Mountain!” called Lard. “To the Mountain! Let us take our places while there is yet time!”  
     As quickly as could be done, the food was placed, and on the Southern spur, in its lower slopes and in the rocks at its feet, the Elves were set; on the Eastern spur were men and dwarves. But Lard and some of the nimblest of men and elves climbed to the height of the Eastern shoulder to gain a view to the North. Soon they could see the lands before the Mountain’s feet black with a hurrying multitude. Ere long the vanguard swirled round the spur’s end and came rushing into Dale. These were the swiftest wolf-riders, and already their cries and howls rent the air afar. As Lardass had hoped, the goblin army, gathered behind the vanguard, poured now in hunger into the valley, driving wildly between the arms of the Mountain, seeking for the food they could already smell. Their banners were countless, black and red, and they came on like a tide in desire and disorder.  
     They fell upon the massed edibles in frenzy, clambering over one another. Fixated on the food, the goblins grabbed huge handfuls, one after the other, cramming all the food they could get into their gaping maws. In their madness, they would bite chunks off wolves, Wolfers, or even other goblins, all of which would bite back. Before long, the goblins were eating everything remotely edible that came within their reach; the food placed for them, wolves, Wolfers, other goblins. The men, elves, and dwarves watched, mesmerized, and the goblins stuffed themselves with everything they could reach, and grew huge, bloated and obese.  
     Day drew on. All the piled food was gone, and many of the goblins as well. Those left had ballooned to massive size, their bellies packed tight and swollen so huge with the food, other goblins, wolves, and Wolfers, that their legs were engulfed down to the toes, and their arms were held straight out from their torsos by the sheer size of their bodies. Incredibly, there were still many goblins able to move, and those staggered heavily to their feet, and waddled their rounded stuffed bodies (much slower now) towards the men, elves, and dwarves.  
     Suddenly there was a great hiss, and from the Gate came a trumpet call. They had forgotten More-in! Over the wall she floated, she and the other dwarves, inflated by Balloon into huge bloated blimps, overfilled with air and with only their equally ballooned tits blown up hugely altering the perfect roundness of their inflated bodies; and safely out of reach of the goblins. As the inflated dwarf-blimps flew over the goblins, they dropped small objects into the barely mobile goblins’ gaping mouths; and they swallowed out of reflex. Immediately, those goblins’ skin darkened to blue, and they blew up even larger, enveloping their limbs and heads, as the goblins swelled into huge berries. The berry-goblins rolled helplessly around, and some grew so huge and bloated, after their hours-long belly-stretching stuffing, that they burst in a spray of blueberry juice, but others, a dozen or so who hadn’t swallowed Bom-berry’s special berries, kept waddling closer to the defenders.  
     Belly-donna had taken her stand on Ravenhill among the Elves-- partly because there was more chance of escape from that point, and partly (with the more Cookish part of her mind) because if she was going to be eaten and add to some goblin’s girth (rather impressively, too, with her own fatness she preferred on the whole to go alongside the Elven-queen. Lardass, too, I may say was there, sitting on the ground as if in deep thought, preparing, I suppose, some last bit of gluttony before the end. That did not seem far off. “It will not be long now,” thought Belly-donna, “even with all we have done, some of the goblins always come through. And the survivors seem the most ravenous, too, and we are all sure to be eaten up. Really it is enough to make one weep, after all one has gone through. I’ve added so wonderfully to my own fat body and developed such wonderfully gigantic tits in the bargain, and now it seems likely to go to expand some wretched goblin. I would rather old Scarf-down had been left with all the wretched food, than that these vile creatures should eat it, and poor old Bom-berry, and Balloon and Feedee and Foodie and all the rest come to a bad end; and Lard, too, and the Lake-men and the merry elves. Misery me! I have heard songs of many gluttonous feastings, and I have always understood them to be wondrous. It seems very uncomfortable, not to say distressing, to be on the eaten side of it all. I wish I was well out of it.”  
     Thinking back over her adventures and feedings that led to this, Belly-donna remembered how they escaped the goblins of the Meaty Mountains, the popping of the Great Goblin and the finding of her feeding ring. She looked over the goblins, waddling inexorably at them, ready to devour everyone in their way, though they were already stuffed nearly to their limit.  
     “Stuffed to their limit,” Belly-donna said to herself. Then she called out, “I know what to do! More-in! To me! To me! Dwarves! To me! O More-in and your kinsfolk!”  
     Down, heedless of order, rushed all the inflated dwarves, belching and farting to expel Balloon’s gas, down to Belly-donna. The hobbit herself gazed over the berried goblins, rolling around unable to move; she looked over those of the goblins who were already too fattened to even walk anymore, their massive bellies covering their entire bodies, holding them down with gargantuan weight. She looked over the waddling advance of the goblins, with their packed and stuffed bellies, and even elephantine inflated tits, dragging along the ground.  
     One by one, the dwarves landed near to Belly-donna. “You have a plan?” they said. “What is it? What shall we do?” The Elven-queen and Lard drew near also to hear the hobbit’s idea.  
     “Just what we did in the Goblin caverns in the Meaty Mountains. These goblins are already stuffed to their limit. If we can get them to stuff themselves further, by challenging them to eat, then...”  
     “But how?” asked Lard. “They seem likely to win out, and then they will be able to eat up everything they wish, and us into the bargain. Why should they accept a challenge from you?”  
     The dwarves and Belly-donna glanced sidelong among themselves; they knew that Belly-donna’s ring could entice anyone, or anything, to eat without end. But Belly-donna just now didn’t want to reveal her ring to the elves and men, and the dwarves realized that.  
     “Goblins can’t resist a challenge, especially to eat,” said Belly-donna, thinking quickly. “trust me, they will agree.”  
     Lard and the Elven-queen accepted that. More-in stayed to eat along with Belly-donna. Feedee and Foodie, the youngest and most eager to eat, stayed to help More-in, for she was their mother’s elder sister. More-in sent the rest of her companions, along with many of Dine’s folk, to retrieve the dragon’s hoard of food.  
     With Lardass supporting her, Belly-donna called to the approaching goblins: “You see what happened to the rest of your horde! We are not yet finished with our tricks! If you try more, fewer of you will return to your holes in the mountains!  
     “We four here, challenge all the remaining goblins to eat more than we can! Anon, dwarves will bring as much food as you could wish. All of it, and more still, is yours, if only you can beat us.” As she spoke, Belly-donna felt her ring flash with heat, and a moment later, the goblins heavily crowded together, and conferred. Finally, one stood tall, her belly bulging larger than all the others’. “I am Bolg,” she said. “We will meet your challenge, if once we out-eat you, you accept your fate as our just and due meal.” Looking at the state of her goblin followers, Bolg added, “and, only one member of a side needs to last for that side to win.”  
     With barely a flinch, Belly-donna called back, “accepted!” She knew that her ring would help her outlast the most ravenous goblin, but looking at Bolg’s huge bloated body, she thought that she would have a fair effort to beat her.  
     The dwarves made a line from the hoard in the bottom of the Mountain all the way to the valley between the Mountain’s spurs. They would keep bringing up food and more food until the contest was decided (or until the treasure-hoard of food ran out).  
     With the remaining dozen or so goblins on one side, and More-in, Feedee, Foodie, and Belly-donna on the other, they all settled around the already-vast pile of food growing in the midst of them, additions from the dwarf-lines steadily adding to the pile.  
     Belly-donna said to the goblins,” now remember, this is how much is eaten, not how fat you get, so your already-bloated bodies won’t help you.”  
     With that, the dwarves (and the hobbit) instantly dove in. The goblins, as quickly as they could, attacked the other side of the pile, shoveling the heaping piles of casseroles, vast plate after plate of rice or potato side dishes, and seemingly-endless bowls of thick stews, into their gaping maws, alternating hands, one after the other, so that there was a steady river of food flowing down their throats.  
     Grabbing utensils from their compatriots, the dwarves stabbed filets of fish, beef, or chicken, and squeezed the entire thing (whatever meat it was) past their lips, chewing only briefly before pushing the next in, forcing the half-chewed mass into their bellies. Each dwarf packed in many dozens of filets, and still they went faster, eyeing the goblins opposite them.  
     As had been true under the Meaty Mountains, they saw that the goblins were much messier eating than they themselves, and nearly as much food fell on their bodies and entered their mouths. This didn’t affect their consumption any more that had the goblins of the Mountains, since the goblins would fall on each other, eating crumbs right off each others’ bodies.  
     After barely an hour of solid eating, all the dwarves (and Ms. Big’uns) were far more bloated than they had ever dreamed of being, even after their weeks of stuffing and inflation, and the dwarves’ witness to Belly-donna’s many impossible expansions. The fat was accumulating all over their bodies, inflating not only their bellies but also their breasts and rear-ends, their legs and feet, even their heads and faces. They grew so much, that their clothing, already tattered by their massive inflation, shredded completely, letting their huge bellies and bloated titflesh billow out in rippling waves from the ragged remains of their clothes. Their bellies began, in fact, to crowd against each other as they sat at the pile of food, growing to a solid wall of fat surrounding them and even pushing them away from each other. Spreading out actually proved helpful, since they no longer were even close to interfering with each other reaching for food and their desperate stuffing.  
     Looking at the goblins, Ms. Big’uns could see that, though much sloppier, the goblins were keeping pace with herself and the dwarves, blowing up just as fast. In fact, Bolg was bloated and gargantuan, already larger than any other at the feast, and growing fatter and faster than even the rest. The hobbit, justifiably proud of her capacity for stuffing, steeled herself to outdo that monstrous belly, to eat it into insignificance.  
     Panting now, with their effort and the sheer mass of food already in their overstuffed bellies, the dwarves looked blearily at Lardass, standing on and watching nervously. The wizard, remembering also their feast in the tunnels of the goblins, stepped up to help the dwarves, finding and flinging many hundreds of bite-sized portions of all kinds at the dwarves. The dwarves could simply intercept the flying morsels with their mouths as they flew, eliminating the need to grab them from plates. Faster and faster they swelled, inflating with food like balloons.  
     The dwarves’ (and Ms. Big’uns’s) jaws and arms began to get tired, so Lardass called for kegs upon kegs of ale and wine, to numb their bellies and allow much further stuffing. As before, the other dwarves just poured them down More-in’s, Feedee’s, Foodie’s, and Belly-donna’s throats, packing gallon after gallon each into them with no effort on their part.  
     After the alcohol, the dwarves found new strength and belly-space. Faster they went again, keeping pace with the incredible abilities of the goblins, matching their consumption bite for bite.  
     Finally, their long stuffing began to tell. Trying desperately to continue eating, nevertheless, one by one, all of the dwarves, and all the goblins, slowed to a stop, most dazed by the sheer fatigue of their massive stuffing, turned into nothing more than gargantuan stuffed bellies topped by equally mammoth domes of breastflesh. The three dwarves, especially, had eaten themselves so immense, so quickly, that they were completely immobile. Only Belly-donna was able to keep feeding, working as before, to match the still-stuffing goblin Bolg.  
     Eying each other, Belly-donna and Bolg kept going, forcing themselves to not only continue packing in more and more of the dragon-hoard, but to speed up. Belly-donna was reliving her massive stuffing in the Meaty Mountains, and the great Bolg still crammed her belly full, determined to beat this puny creature and win them all for her belly. Bigger and tighter their bellies swelled, creaking ominously as they went. Belly-donna had thought that Bolg was sure to peter out first, or to straight-out burst, stuffed to immensity as she already was; but as the feeding went on, endlessly it seemed, she seemed ready and able to stuff her belly for hours, and tons, more still. Try as they might, the dwarves couldn’t stir their exhausted bodies to eat a single bite more. The goblins started slavering, knowing that Bolg their Chief had never lost a stuffing contest, and eagerly awaiting the whole mass of dwarves, men, and elves to consume.  
     Louder the creaking became, from both bellies, as fatter they grew. Belly-donna and Bolg both began to finally slow down, not from fatigue, but simply because their gigantic bellies, easily ten times their former size, began to engulf their arms. Goblin servants, still barely mobile, stirred to help their Chief to continue, and the dwarves managed somehow to rise and add to the brigades from the depths of the Mountain straight into Ms. Big’uns, and the feeding continued.  
     As the entire dragon-hoard began impossibly to run out Bolg, and Belly-donna too, began to moan and whimper, but as they watched each other intently, they waved to their supporters for the feeding to continue.  
     Already blown up to gargantuan proportions, their bodies inflated as though on high-pressure hoses. Even Belly-donna’s ring couldn’t keep up, and her body bulged outwards, tight and taut, engulfing her limbs completely. Even her head was enveloped, kept accessible only because the dwarves wedged planks under her chin, using it to simply roll the incoming food into her gaping mouth. Watching the still-ballooning Bolg, two dwarves got long poles and began using them to push the food stretching Belly-donna’s mouth to insane width down into her tight, packed belly. Those goblins still at all mobile used their own long arms to do the same to Bolg.  
     The two females kept going, their supporters cramming more and more inside their mouths and using the poles (and goblin-arms) to shove it down against incredible pressure of the gigantic mass already inside their bellies. Tons had already vanished down their gullets, and more came and still more. Both their bodies were tight and filled to the brim, so bloated around their limbs that neither could even twitch so much as her littlest finger to signal their stuffers. Unable to even move their mouths, Bolg and Belly-donna were completely dependent on their supporters for their feeding, and had to rely on them to know to stop before they burst.  
     Finally, Bolg was packed so much, so completely full, there was no way for her to swallow even one more bite. One of the goblins, with a glance at Belly-donna, just as fully packed with food massing in her mouth, stretching her cheeks to contain yet more, climbed up her massive belly, squeezing through the cavernous cleavage between her gargantuan bloated tits, and by hand, pushed the last morsel in, leaning all her body weight to force it down against the reverse pressure. As it pushed in, that last bite pushed the rest of her mouthful down her throat, and that pushed more into her already-overloaded stomach.  
     As the great Bolg stubbornly closed her mouth over that last fateful bite, pushing it further inside, and sending a pressure wave down her throat into her belly, the belly began to squeak and gurgle, and suddenly, exploded in a spray of gore and half-digested food.  
     Reeling backwards, the goblin-feeders fell prone with the enormous bellies high and heavy above them holding them trapped and immobile. The others, both berried and stuffed before, were still held immobile by their massively round and full bodies.  
     The dwarves, men, and elves looked over the wobbling, rolling goblin bodies, and the spattered gore of those goblins who popped, and realized that the hobbit (and the dwarves) had done the impossible; they had out-consumed an entire army of goblins.  
     More-in, Feedee, Foodie, and Belly-donna each had eaten more that day than they had in the rest of the adventure to this point. All four were totally immobile; indeed, their bellies were so huge, packed and taut, that their limbs were totally engulfed, hidden by their engorged bellies, and even the dents marking their place was bulged out by the fat of their bodies. The only features visible that marked them as more than bloated balls of fat were their absolutely monumental towering tits, blown up by their stuffing larger than the other dwarves’ whole bodies. Their mammoth breasts were so filled with fat and tightly packed that they rose in immense balls above their oceanically fat stomachs. The dwarves’ heads were buried in their massive bodies too; the hobbit’s was barely visible only because the planks installed to allow her continued feeding held a cone of space in her vast belly-fat.  
     So exhausted they were by their impossible stuffing, the dwarves were already unconscious. Belly-donna, dazed and barely coherent from her efforts and the strain of her belly, swollen to rival old Scarf-down in size, she imagined, heard only that they had won, and that the goblins still alive were so vastly stuffed as to be immobile, before she fell unconscious and knew no more.


	18. The Return Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle over, Belly-donna reunites one last time with the dwarves, and heads home.

     When Belly-donna came to herself, she was literally by herself. She was lying on the flat stones of Ravenhill, and no one was near; she was far too fat still for even the whole of the armies of men, dwarves, and elves to lift and move. A cloudless day, but cold (not that the cold bothered her under her massive layers of blubber) was broad above her.  
     “Now I wonder what has happened?” she said to herself. “At any rate I am still too fat to be brought to the rest of the camp. My ring should see to that!”  
     She tried to move, just a bit. She did succeed in rolling over to her side, flopping her massive belly-fat against the rocks, and sending huge rippling waves running all through her gargantuan fattened tits. After a while as her ring struggled to return her mobility, she thought she could see elves moving in the rocks below. Surely there was a camp still in the plain some distance off; and there was a coming and going about the Gate? Dwarves seemed to be busy removing the wall. But all was deadly still. There was no call and no echo of a song. Exhaustion seemed to be in the air. “Victory, after all!” she said. “Well, it seems a very gloomy business!”  
     Suddenly she was aware of a woman climbing up and coming towards her.  
     “Hullo there!” she called, with a voice muted by the massive fat collected around her neck. “Hullo there! What news?”  
     “It’s me, Belly-donna Big’uns, companion of More-in!” she cried.  
     “It is well that you are awake!” said the woman striding forward. “You are needed and we have brought many strong men and elves for you, to roll you down to camp.”  
     And the woman waved, and in answer many dozen men and elves, and some dwarves too, appeared and as one, hefted Belly-donna up and started her gigantic obesity rolling down the hill towards camp. That was the easier part; keeping her gargantuan weight under control, so her immensity would not squash the camp on her arrival, proved more difficult. But the crew of many managed it, and soon Belly-donna was splayed before a tent in Dale; and there stood Lardass, with her arm in a sling. Evidently the wizard had pulled a muscle in the last desperate feeding of the hobbit (and dwarves).  
     When Lardass saw Belly-donna, she was delighted. “Big’uns!” she exclaimed. “Well I never! You’ve shrunk down a fair bit since last night-- I am glad! I began to wonder if even the whole of our armies could move you back down here! A tricky business, and it nearly was impossible. But other news can wait. Come!” she said more gravely. “You are called for;” and opening the flap of the tent wide she showed her what was inside.  
     “Hail! More-in,” she said. “I have her.”  
     There indeed lay More-in Oakenbowl, still bloated with many morsels, stuffed to capacity and immense, and far too fat for any clothing that could be contrived; her gigantic belly held her down, covering her arms and legs to their ends, and pushing her equally humongous tits up, crowding against her face. She looked out, past the gargantuan breastflesh, seeking for Belly-donna.  
     “Farewell, good thief,” she said, muffled by her massive breasts covering part of her face. “I go now to the halls of my people to lay immobile until I have digested enough to find my limbs. Since you are no doubt eager to return home, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate.”  
     Belly-donna would have liked to kneel before More-in, the Queen under the Mountain, but that of course was completely impossible. “Farewell, O Queen,” she said instead. “This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of food could amend it. Yet I would gladly try, stuffing such a mountain down my throat alongside you one last time-- that is more than any Big’uns deserves.”  
     “No!” said More-in. “You must begin your journey home. But there is more in you of gluttony than even you know, child of the hungry West. Some hunger and some sharing, blended in measure. If more of us could share our food as easily as you, instead of hoarding it in greed, it would be a merrier world. But I must leave you now. Farewell!”  
     All that had happened after she was stunned, Belly-donna learned later; but it gave her little enough joy, and she was now weary of her adventure. She was aching in her belly for the homeward journey. That, however, was some delayed, at least until she dwindled small enough for the difficult trip, so in the meantime I will tell you something of events.  
     In the last hour Big-one herself had appeared-- no one knew how or from where. She came alone, and in pig’s shape; and she seemed to have grown almost to gigantic size in her gluttony. The squeal of her voice was like piercing train whistles; and she ate up wolves and goblins from her path like berries and peas. She fell upon their rear, and broke like a clap of thunder through their immobile bodies. The dwarves were still standing about, goggling amazed at More-in and the others. Then Big-one rose up and lifted More-in, and bore her to a tent. Swiftly she returned and her hunger was redoubled, so that nothing could satisfy her. She ate all the goblins still immobile, and even rooted and licked up the remains of the others.  
     “Where has she gone?” Belly-donna asked Lardass.  
     “She has gone back to her house,” said the wizard. “She would not stay here, and departed with the first light of morning. Dine has crowned her with wreaths of food, and sworn friendship with her for ever.”  
     “I am sorry I mean, I should have liked to see her again,” said Belly-donna sleepily; “perhaps I shall see her on the way home. I suppose I shall be going home soon?”  
     “As soon as a wagon can be found to carry you,” said the wizard.  
     Actually, it was some days before Belly-donna really set out.  
     They placed More-in in the deepest cavern beneath the Mountain, and Lard laid the Freezing-stone on her breast.  
     “There let it lie until she can move her hand to grasp it!” she said. “May it keep preserved all the food that is stored here after!” Upon her bed the Elven-queen laid Aescrist, the elvish cutlery that had been taken from More-in in captivity. It is said in songs that, once she recovered her mobility, More-in used it to prepare the most delicious foods, and the kitchens of the dwarves could not be equaled. There now Dine daughter of Weight took up her abode, and she became Queen under the Mountain, until of course More-in could move enough to rule for herself. Of the twelve companions of More-in, ten remained mobile. Feedee and Foodie, you remember, had stuffed themselves immobile alongside her and Ms. Big’uns. They stayed beside More-in, digesting and returning to mobility over the following months. The others remained with Dine; for Dine dealt her food well. There was, of course, no longer any question of dividing the hoard in such shares as had been planned, to Balloon and D’widen, and Treater and Feeder and Eater, and Gut and Glut, and Bigger and Blogger and Bom-berry-- or to Belly-donna. Yet a fourteenth share of all the food, savory and sweet, was given up to Lard; for Dine said: “We will honor the agreement of More-in, and she now has the Freezing-stone in her keeping.”  
     Even a fourteenth share was food in exceeding amount, greater than that of many mortal cities. From that treasure Lard sent much food to the Mistress of Lake-town; and she rewarded her followers and friends freely. To the Elven-queen she gave the golden pastries, such delicacies as she most loved, which Dine had restored to her. To Belly-donna she said: “This treasure if as much yours as it is mine; though old agreements cannot stand, since so much of it was used to stuff and burst the goblins, I should wish that the words of More-in, of which she repented, should not prove true: that we should give you little. I would reward you with the biggest feeding of all, and a truly massive fucking also; all the pleasure you could imagine or wish for.”  
     “Very kind of you,” said Belly-donna. “But really I am quite fat enough for now, and as much as I would like the sex, I miss my home, and my own people. How on earth I should get all this fat home without the wagons bound together under me, I don’t know. And I don’t know what I should have done if you had stuffed me up fatter, wonderfully pleasing though that thought is. I am sure the food is better in your hands, and belly.”  
     In the end, she would only take two small coolers, such as could be squeezed onto her wagons underneath her massive body. “That will be quite as much as I can manage,” said she.  
     At last the time came for her to say good-bye to her friends. “Farewell, Balloon!” she said; “and farewell D’widen; and farewell Treater, Feeder, Eater, Gut, Glut, Bigger, Blogger, and Bom-berry! May your bellies never grow thin!” And turning towards the Mountain she added: “Farewell More-in Oakenbowl! And Feedee and Foodie! May you never shrink to less than you would want!”  
     Then the dwarves bowed low before their Gate, but words stuck in their throats. “Good-bye and good luck, wherever you fare!” said Balloon at last. “If ever you visit us again, when our halls are well-stocked once more, then the feast shall indeed be splendid, and matched with unending orgies for you!”  
     “If ever you are passing my way,” said Belly-donna, “Don’t wait to knock! Food is always ready; and any of you are welcome to it all!”  
     Then she turned away.  
     The elf-host was on the march; and if it was not as stuffed with food as they might wih, they were yet glad, for now the northern world would be merrier for many a long day. The dragon was dead, and the goblins overthrown, and their hearts looked forward after winter to a spring of stuffing and joy. Lardass drove the wagons loaded with Belly-donna’s immensity behind the Elven-queen, and beside them strode Big-one, once again in woman’s shape, and she laughed and sang in a loud voice upon the road. So they went on until they drew near to the borders of Gorge-wood, to the north of the place where the Forest River ran out.  
     Then they halted, for the wizard and Belly-donna would not enter the wood, even though the queen bade them stay a while in her halls. They intended to go along the edge of the forest, and round its northern end in the waste that lay between it and the beginning of the Gravy Mountains. It was a long road, but now that the goblins were devoured, it seemed safer to them than the dreadful pathways under the trees. Moreover Big-one was going that way too.  
     “Farewell! O Elven-queen!” said Lardass. “Merry be the greenwoood, while the world is yet fed! And merry, and stuffed, be all your folk!”  
     “Farewell! O Lardass!” said the queen. “May you ever be hugely endowed and fat all your days! The oftener you appear in my halls the better shall I be pleased!”  
     “I beg of you,” said Belly-donna stammering, “to accept this gift!” and she gestured to a pile of pastries on the top of one of her coolers.  
     “In what way have I earned such a gift, O hobbit?” said the queen.  
     “Well, er, I thought, don’t you know,” Said Belly-donna rather confused, “that, er, some little return should be made for your, er, hospitality. I mean even a burglar has her feelings. I have drunk much of your wine and eaten tons of your food.”  
     “I will take your gift, O Belly-donna the Massive!” said the queen gravely. “And I name you elf-friend and bloated. May your belly never grow less! Farewell!”  
     Then the elves turned towards the Forest, and Belly-donna started on her long road home.  
She had many feasts and adventures before she got back. The Wild was still the Wild, and there were many other things in it in those days besides goblins; but she was well guided and well fed-- the wizard was with her, and Big-one for much of the way-- and she was never in great hunger again. Anyway by mid-winter Lardass and Belly-donna had come all the way back, along both edges of the Forest, to the doors of Big-one’s house; and there for a while they both stayed, eating and stuffing. Yule-tide was warm and merry there; and folk came from far and wide to feast and fuck at Big-one’s bidding. Lardass, Belly-donna, and even Big-one herself were fed and pleasured by all that came there, and spent nearly a full week contintually fed and stuffed to capacity and panting in unending orgasms every waking moment, it seemed. The goblins of the Meaty Mountains were now few and terrified, and hidden in the deepest holes they could find; and the Wolfers had vanished from the woods, so that men went abroad without fear. Big-one indeed became a great chieftess afterwards in those regions and ruled a wide land between the mountains and the wood; and it is said that for many generations the women of her line had the power of taking pig’s shape, and some were grim women and bad, feasting on whatever and whoever they could get, but most were in heart like Big-one, if less in girth and capacity. In their day the last goblins were hunted from the Meaty Mountains and a new peace came over the edge of the Wild. It was spring, and a fair one with mild weathers and a bright sun, before Belly-donna and Lardass took their leave at last of Big-one, and though she longed for home, Belly-donna left with regret, for the feasting and fucking of Big-one were in springtime no less massive than in high summer. At last they came up the long road, and reached the very pass where the goblins had captured them before. But they came to that high point at morning, and looking backward they saw a white sun shining over the out-stretched lands. There behind lay Gorge-wood, blue in the distance, and darkly green at the nearer edge even in the spring. There far away was the Lonely Mountain on the edge of eyesight. On its highest peak snow yet unmelted was gleaming pale.  
     “So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!” said Belly-donna, and she turned her back on her adventure. The Cookish part was getting very tired (and hungry), and the Big’uns was daily getting stronger (and hungrier). “I wish now only to be at my own table, stuffing myself endlessly!” she said.


	19. The Last Stuffing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally safe at home, Belly-donna finds an unpleasant surprise. The epilogue has a reunion with Balloon and Lardasss

     It was on May the First that the two came back at last to the brink of the valley of Sit-and-fill, where stood the Last (of the First) Stuffing House. Again it was evening, their ponies were tired, especially the one that carried Belly-donna’s still-elephantine tonnage, covered with only a draped tarp (no clothing had yet been found to cover her body), under which constantly peeked her massive belly-flesh and her immense tits, bloated larger themselves than many normal women’s bodies; and they all felt in need of rest. As they rode down the steep path, Belly-donna heard the elves still singing in the trees, as if they had not stopped since she left; and as soon as their riders came down into the lower glades of the wood they burst into a song of much the same kind as before. This is something like it:

>   
>  _The dragon is eaten;_  
>  _Her bones are now gnawed on;_  
>  _Her flesh was all sweetened_  
>  _With joy and is gone!_  
>  _Though pot shall be rusted,_  
>  _Kitchen counter perish_  
>  _With strength that men trusted,_  
>  _And food that they cherish,_  
>  _Here bellies are growing,_  
>  _And bosoms are swinging,_  
>  _The wine is a-flowing,_  
>  _And elves are yet singing_  
>  _Come! Tra-la-la-lally!_  
>  _Come back to the valley!_  
>  _Pastries are far brighter_  
>  _Than gems without measure,_  
>  _The icing is whiter_  
>  _Than silver in treasure:_  
>  _The fire is more shining_  
>  _On hearth in the gloaming_  
>  _Than gold won by mining,_  
>  _So why go a-roaming?_  
>  _O! Tra-la-la-lally!_  
>  _Come back to the Valley._  
>  _O! Where are you going,_  
>  _So late in returning?_  
>  _The wine is still flowing,_  
>  _The food is all burning!_  
>  _O! Whither so laden,_  
>  _So tired and clumsy?_  
>  _Here elf and elf-maiden_  
>  _Feed and stuff the hungry_  
>  _With Tra-la-la-lally_  
>  _Come back to the Valley,_  
>  _Tra-la-la-lally_  
>  _Fa-la-la-lally_  
>  _Fa-la!_

Then the elves of the valley came out and greeted them and led them across the water to the house of Enedrond. There a huge meal was made for them, and there were many eager ears that evening to hear the tale of their adventures and stuffings. Lardass it was who spoke, for Belly-donna was far too interested in stuffing herself again. Most of the tale she knew, for she had been in it, and had herself told much of it to the wizard on their homeward way or in the house of Big-one; but every now and again she would glance up from her food, and listen, when a part of the story which she did not yet know came in. It was in this way that she learned where Lardass had been to; for she overheard the words of the wizard to Enedrond. It appeared that Lardass had been to a great council and feast of the wide wizards, mistresses of lore and good food; and that they had at last driven the Gastronomist from her dark hold in the south of Gorge-wood.  
“Ere long now,” Lardass was saying, “the Forest will grow somewhat more wholesome. The North will be freed from that horror for many long years, I hope. Yet I wish she were banished from the world!”  
“It would be well indeed,” said Enedrond; “but I fear that will not come about in this age of the world, or for many after. There are too many folk around who enjoy being force-fed as she does it.”  
When the tale of their journeyings was told, there were other feasts, and yet more feasts, and tales of long ago buffets and dinner-parties, and tales of new things to eat and stuff, and tales of no time at all, with much food accompanying all, till Belly-donna’s belly was stuffed again, and covered her limbs and even her head, and she snored comfortably nestled inside her own fat.  
She woke to find herself in a white bed, and the moon shining through an open window, already beginning to digest back to more normal girth (or her new, giant, normal girth, at least). Below the window many elves were singing loud and clear on the banks of the stream.

>   
>  _Feast all ye joyful, now eat all together!_  
>  _The food’s on the table, no matter the weather;_  
>  _The bellies in blossom, and all spilling over_  
>  _The belts tightly squeezing, and bursting all over._  
>  _Stuff ye joyful, now cram more to follow!_  
>  _Soft is the food, and easy to swallow;_  
>  _The beer is dark amber, the hunger is fleeting_  
>  _Merry is meal-time, and merry our eating._  
>  _Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave her!_  
>  _Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her!_  
>  _The wanderer sleepeth. Now stuffed be her belly!_  
>  _Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Holly!_  
>  _Sigh no more, Pine, till the wind of the morn!_  
>  _Fall Moon! Dark be the lanr!_  
>  _Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!_  
>  _Hushed be the feeding, till dawn is at hand!_  
> 

“Well, Merry People!” said Belly-donna looking out. “What time is it? Your lullaby would waken a drunken goblin! Yet I thank you.”  
“And your belly rumbling would waken a stone dragon-- yet we thank you,” they answered with laughter. “It is drawing towards dawn, and you have slept now since the night’s beginning. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be cured of weariness and hunger.”  
“A little sleep and lots of food does a great cure in the house of Enedrond,” said she; “but I will take all the cure I can get, and elvish sex is the best cure of all. A second good night, fair friends! Unless you are willing to join me,” and with that several of the elves gladly went to her room and spent the rest of the night crawling over her bed-sized body, licking and suckling on her gargantuan tits and nipples, and rubbing their own bodies all over her massive belly. Others dug under her massive fat apron, seeking her pussy; and finding it, they dove in, licking and drinking all the juice she spurted into their mouths. Several of the male elves fucked her as well, squeezing between those on her tits, to fuck the cavernous cleavage and spray over her face, or finding a convenient fold of massive fat and using that. One brave elf even worked his way under her mammoth weight to fuck her ass. Belly-donna moaned and panted in pleasure from each and every ministration she got, eagerly sucking all cocks that came her way and (with the help of several strong elves) licking and sucking cum off of her gargantuan tits.  
Weariness fell from her soon in that house, and she had many a merry feeding and fucking, early and late, with the elves of the valley. Yet even that place could not delay her now, and she thought always of her own kitchen and her own food waiting for her. After a week, therefore, she said farewell to Enedrond, and giving her such small gifts of food as she would accept, she rode away with Lardass. Even as they left the valley the sky darkened in the West before them, and wind and rain came up to meet them.  
“Merry is May-time!” said Belly-donna, as the rain beat into her face. “But our back is to legendary stuffings and we are coming home. I suppose this is a first taste of it.”  
“There is a long road yet,” said Lardass.  
“But it is the last road,” said Belly-donna. They came to the river that marked the very edge of the borderland of the Wild, and to the ford beneath the steep bank, which you may remember. The water was swollen both with the melting of snows at the approach of summer, and with the daylong rain; but they crossed with some difficulty, and pressed forward, as evening fell, on the last stage of their journey. This was much as it had been before, except the company was smaller, and more silent, and much fatter; also this time there were no trolls. At each point on the road Belly-donna recalled the feedings and the stuffings of a year ago-- it seemed to her more like ten-- so that, of course, she quickly noted the place where the pony had fallen in the river, and they had turned aside for their nasty adventure with Tammy and Bertha and Wilma. Not far from the road they found the gold of the trolls, which they had buried, still hidden and untouched. “Back home, I won’t need all of this,” said Belly-donna, when they had dug it up. “You had better take some, Lardass. I daresay you can find a use for it.”  
“Indeed I can!” said the wizard. “But share and share alike! You may find you have more needs than you expect.”  
So they put the gold in bags and slung them on the wagons, still hauling Belly-donna’s gigantic stuffed body, and were not at all pleased about it. After that their going was slower, for most of the time Lardass walked, and Belly-donna finally was shrinking back down to mobility, and tried to walk, or at least waddle, alongside the wizard. But the land was green and there was much grass through which the hobbit waddled along heavily. She mopped her face with a red silk handkerchief-- no! not a single one of her own had survived, she had borrowed this one from Enedrond-- for now June had brought summer, and the weather was bright and hot again, especially for such fat bloated women.  
As all things come to an end, even this story, a day came at last when they were in sight of the country where Belly-donna had been born and had her first stuffings, where the shapes of the land and the all the places to get food were well known to her as her belly and bosom. Coming to a rise she could see her own Hill in the distance, and she stopped suddenly and said

>   
>  _Foods go ever ever in,_  
>  _Over table and down the gullet,_  
>  _To bellies that are never done,_  
>  _Stomachs that never get filled up._  
>  _From winter, when Sun arises late_  
>  _And through the merry flowers of June,_  
>  _On and on the feasting fete_  
>  _Not ending even under the moon._  
>  _Feasts go ever ever on_  
>  _Under cloud and under star,_  
>  _Yet bellies stuffed hither and yon_  
>  _Turn at last to home afar._  
>  _Eyes that exotic meals have seen_  
>  _And horror in the kitchens done_  
>  _Look at last on meadows green_  
>  _And foods and feasts they long have known._  
> 

Lardass looked at her. “My dear Belly-donna!” she said. “Something is the matter with you! You are not the hobbit that you were.” And she muttered, “you are much much fatter than before, at least.”  
And so they crossed the bridge and passed the mill by the river and came right back to Belly-donna’s own door. “Bless me! What’s going on?” she cried. There was a great commotion, and people of all sorts, respectable and unrespectable, were thick round the door, and many were going in and out-- not even wiping their mouths after licking their lips clean, on her own food, as Belly-donna noticed with annoyance.  
If she was surprised, they were more surprised still. She had arrived back in the middle of an auction! There was a large notice in black and red hung on the gate, stating that on June the Twenty-second Messrs. Grub, Grub, and Billows would sell by auction the effects of the late Belly-donna Big’uns, of Big-End, Underhill, Hobbiton. Sale to commence at ten o’clock sharp, and to include an all-day buffet feast. It was now nearly lunch-time, and most of the things had already been sold, for various prices from next to nothing to old songs (as is not uncommon at auctions), and most of her food stores were eaten all up. Belly-donna’s cousins the Packed-in-Big’unses were, in fact, busy measuring her rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. In short Belly-donna was “Presumed Dead,” and not everybody that said so was sorry to find the presumption wrong.  
The return of Ms. Belly-donna Big’uns created quite a disturbance, both under the Hill and over the Hill, and across the Water; it was a great deal more than a nine days’ wonder. The legal bother, indeed, lasted for years. It was quite a long time before Ms. Big’uns was in fact admitted to be alive again. The people who had got specially good bargains at the Sale took a deal of convincing; and in the end to save time Belly-donna had to buy back quite a lot of her own furniture. Many of her silver spoons mysteriously disappeared and were never accounted for. Personally she suspected the Packed-in-Big’unses. On their side they never admitted that the returned Big’uns was genuine, and they were not on friendly terms with Belly-donna ever after. They really had wanted to live in her nice hobbit-hole so very much.  
Indeed Belly-donna found she had lost more than spoons-- she had lost her reputation. It is true that for ever after she remained an elf-friend, and had the honor of dwarves, wizards, and all such folk as ever passed that way; but she was no longer quite respectable, though her new massive belly and bosom were held quite impressive by all and sundry far and wide. She was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighborhood to be ‘weird’-- except by her nieces and nephews on the Cook side, but even they were not encouraged in their friendship by their elders. I am sorry to say she did not mind. She was quite content; and the sound of the kettle on her hearth was ever after more musical than it had been even in the quiet days before the Unexpected Feeding. Her elvish cook-pan she used daily, to make more magnificent feasts (mostly for herself) than any had seen under the Hill or over the Hill or across the Water. Her gold and silver was largely spent in presents, and special catered affairs where all could stuff themselves to even hobbits’ content-- which to a certain extent accounts for the affection of her nieces and nephews. Her magic ring she kept a great secret, for she chiefly used it when unpleasant callers came, getting them to search desperately for food (elsewhere than her house). She took to writing odes to food and eating and visiting the elves, and stuffing them and being stuffed by them; and though many shook their heads and bellies and touched their foreheads and jiggled their bosoms and said “Poor old Big’uns!” and though few believed any of her tales, she remained very happy and hugely fat to the end of her days, and those were extraordinarily filled, and filling.  
One autumn evening some years afterwards Belly-donna was sitting at her table, stuffing her face mindlessly, while writing her memoirs-- she thought of calling them “Fed and Fed Again, a Hobbit’s Holiday”-- when there was a ring at the door. It was Lardass and a dwarf; and the dwarf was actually Balloon.  
“Come in! Come in!” said Belly-donna, and soon they were settled in chairs by the fire, all feeding themselves, and each other eagerly. If Balloon noticed that Ms. Big’uns’ waistcoat was more extensive, Belly-donna also noticed that Balloon’s belly was many inches wider, and her jewelled belt was strained by its contents.  
Naturally, the three quickly began to feed in earnest. Taking it in turns, they fed each other; first Belly-donna and Lardass stuffed Balloon to her limit, with her belly bloating out to five times its normal, wide span. Then Balloon stirred her massive weight and joined Belly-donna in stuffing Lardass. Finally, the dwarf and the wizard, both bloated so fat as to be nearly immobile, still managed to get to their feet and took piles of the food, one by one, and fed them to Belly-donna.  
One pile after another, the dwarf and the wizard crammed all the remaining food into Belly-donna. She eagerly opened her mouth wide for the massive expected stuffing.  
Only too happy to oblige, the Balloon and Lardass worked hard to feed Belly-donna, cramming the huge piles into her gaping maw, pushing the last pile right down her throat by main force.  
Steadily, the two kept stuffing Belly-donna; her already-bulging belly grew steadily larger and wider as all the food left by the dwarves flowed into her. Our Ms. Big’uns reached out and cradled her growing belly between her hands, moaning in pleasure around the massive deluge of food.  
Quickly, Belly-donna’s stomach reached its new capacity, (expanded though it was by her many adventures and her continued habit of packing herself fuller and fuller every chance she got), growing taut against her shirt. But the dwarves still had much more food left, and they kept going. Soon, Belly-donna was completely stuffed, her shirt completely shredded, showing her massive bosom and her vast belly, the belly itself trembling in time with her pulse, and the food even filling up her throat to the very top. Still they stuffed her, pushing more food in, stretching her cheeks as they strove to get all the food into her. Belly-donna herself, eagerly helping, forced her lips closed (between those times when the food was actively pushing inside), to keep hold of the food already inside her.  
There was still a goodly amount of food left to cram into the hobbit when her mouth finally reached capacity. Belly-donna’s mouth was stretched wide, more than three times its normal span with the massive load (and she couldn’t close her mouth anymore; she had to lean back to keep the food from falling out), her throat was bloated visibly, and her belly had grown, just in the minutes of the extensive feeding, to five times its prior girth.  
Panting desperately around her totally packed body, throat, and mouth, Belly-donna waited for her ring to flare and her body to digest the gargantuan load. Balloon and Lardass watched avidly as the hobbit’s augmented digestive system took her belly’s massive load and made it into fat all over her body.  
Naturally, watching her massive belly and tits jiggling, Lardass and Balloon quickly got hot, and they fell on Belly-donna, Balloon climbing atop her to lick and suckle at a massive nipple (actually large and hard enough for the dwarf to basically blow it) while she lay across the hobbit’s breastflesh and driving the other nipple deep inside her own pussy. Lardass used the end of her staff to probe underneath Belly-donna’s huge apron to find, and then fuck with the end, Belly-donna’s bloated pussy. All the while, she leaned down onto Belly-donna’s bloated hand, driving the huge fingers deep into her own pussy and leaning in so that one immense tit shoved it's nipple deep into Belly-donna's mouth and the other hung over Balloon's hand, allowing each to give her some stimulation in return. Quickly, all three hit the first of many mind-blowing orgasms, spraying their juices everywhere and especially filling each other's mouths. After nearly an hour, and many many screaming orgasms, the three wilted, exhausted, into a pile, Balloon and Lardass resting atop Belly-donna's huge bloated stomach.  
Eventually they, of course, fell to talking (still panting shallowly from their heavy stuffed bellies) of their times together and Belly-donna asked how things were going in the lands of the Mountain. It seemed they were going very well. Lard had rebuilt the town in Dale and men had gathered to her from the Lake and from South and West, and all the valley had become tilled again and rich, and the desolation was now filled with birds and blossoms in spring and fruit in autumn, and feasting all the year through. And Lake-town was refounded and was more prosperous than ever, and much wealth and trade went up and down the Running River; and there was friendship in those parts between elves and dwarves and men.  
The old Mistress had come to a bad end. Lard had given her much food for the help of the Lake-people, but being of the kind that easily catches such disease she fell under the dragon-sickness, and stuffed herself with most of the food and burst herself, still trying till the last moment to cram more inside her mouth, overflowing already with a half-chewed mass.  
“The new Mistress is of wiser kind,” said Balloon, “and very popular, for, of course, she gets most of the credit for the present prosperity. They are making songs which say that in her day the rivers run with gold.”  
“Then the prophecies of the old songs have turned out to be true, after a fashion!” said Belly-donna.  
“Of course!” said Lardass. “And why should not they prove true? Surely you don’t disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don’t suppose, doyou, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by pure luck, just for your sole benefit? You are a very fine person, and exceedingly fat and stuffed; but you are only a single person in a wide world after all!”  
“Thank goodness!” said Belly-donna laughing, and handed her another huge plateful overflowing with foodstuffs.  



End file.
